A New Beginning
by Voldemort'sMuse
Summary: The long-awaited sequel to Hermione's True Love! Lord Voldemort and Hermione are together at last. The war is over. But all is not "happily ever after."
1. Move

The long awaited sequel to _Hermione's True Love!_

 _Chapter One - Move_

Voldemort awoke in St. Mungo's to find Hermione still fast asleep, her head resting on his chest, her bushy hair brushing his face. She was eight months along now, having spent the past three months of it in a coma. _4 am. The healers will be in soon to check on her, no doubt._ He apparated them to his bed in Riddle Manor and she awoke with a start.

"Where are we? Where did you take me?" she asked, looking around wildly at the faded canopy, the moth-eaten curtains on the window, the dying embers in the dusty fireplace.

"My home," Voldemort said. "I thought you might be tired of the hospital… you've been there for months now."

"Months!?" she screeched. "What happened? Last thing I remember was the battle… you and Harry were dueling again after shooting each other. I blacked out after that…. Is he still alive? You didn't kill him did you?" she said, her eyes narrowed.

"Yes, he's still alive," he said patiently. "The war's over. I decided to end the war, call it draw. We decided to leave each other alone, as you asked."

She exhaled with relief. "Thank you," she said heavily.

He grunted.

"Why was I in the hospital for that long…?" she asked.

He sighed. "Harry's Sectumsempra curse and my Killing curse ricocheted off each other…" He looked away. "His curse sped off into the woods, mine hit you. I didn't mean for it to happen…."

She swallowed. Her face paled and she looked down at her belly. "Is the baby…?"

"Baby's fine," he said.

"But how…?" she asked, rubbing her belly. To her relief, she felt baby push back on her hand, as if to say, "I'm here!"

"Sirius and Tonks carried you to St. Mungo's. The way they tell it, baby was fighting off the curse, and eventually they saw the curse exit your abdomen, shoot up toward the sky… he said the healers didn't believe them until they saw how severely magically drained the baby was. Worst case they've ever seen. They were giving you a potion to restore baby's magic for awhile. You were still in a coma, however. Your _friends_ were talking about…letting you die after gestation ended if you didn't wake up."

"Wow," she said, lying back in bed. "A 5-month-old fetus fought off the Killing curse… I'm scared what he'll be like as an adult. Hope he doesn't turn out like…" she trailed off.

"Like me?" Voldemort said with a smirk. "And it's a girl. A baby girl."

His arms wrapped possessively around her, she fell back asleep.

She awoke a couple hours later to find baby squishing her bladder. She lifted Voldemort's arm and stumbled out the door, using the wall for support. _A few months and I think my muscles have atrophied already…._ She found the loo, but noticed the mirror was missing… just some screw-holes and a blank space on the wall above the sink marking where it was. _Curious._

Using the wall for support, she stumbled into the hallway. _Just empty bedrooms._ She grabbed the banister by the stairs. Clutching the banister, she crept sideways down the stairs, one foot at a time. She waved aside a cobweb and reached the landing. There was another bathroom in the foyer, but the mirror had a spiderweb of cracks, as if someone had threw something at it or punched it. _Curious. I wonder what he has against mirrors._ She crept along the wall and found the outdated kitchen; it was like going back in time to the 1930's. _The fridge is probably empty… what does he eat? Where does he eat? He must not spend a lot of time here… everything is covered in dust or cobwebs or faded. Where does he normally stay?_ She found the dining room, living room, and another blank space on the wall, just a shard of mirror remaining. _I should really ask him when he wakes up…_

"Going on a tour of the house?" he said behind her and she jumped. _I didn't even hear him!_ She almost fell, but he caught her and steadied her.

"What happened to all the mirrors?" she asked.

"I broke most of them, removed the rest," he said.

"I see that, but why...?" she asked.

He looked off in the distance. "I used to be handsome, good-looking…I delved into the Dark Arts seeking immortality, made some of my own inventions to prolong life, and eventually my hair fell out in clumps, my eyes reddened, my skin paled…. I thought it was temporary, and just avoided mirrors. Right around when I realized it was permanent, the tip of my nose melted off when I got too close to one of the nastier potions I brewed…. Never did like my reflection after all that."

"Oh." she said, not knowing what else to say. Her stomach growled.

"Hungry?" he said, quirking an eyebrow. "I don't have much here but there's a muggle diner down the street…." He waved his hand and transfigured the black robe he was wearing into jeans, boots, and a slim-fitting dark turtleneck.

She stared, eyeing his shoulders, his slim waist, his manly physique in the jeans. _He would be handsome, except for the snake-like face._ "That's a good look for you," she said finally.

He smirked and summoned a hospital bag of her things. "Here's your hospital bag - your shoes, clothing, wand, and whatever else you had on you at the battle. You should change your clothing too to blend in. It's almost May but still a bit cool in the mornings…"

"Lord Voldemort going to a muggle diner?" she said, puzzled. _I thought he despised muggles?_

"He's a wanted wizard internationally….last time he went to a wizarding restaurant he had to fight off a hoard of Aurors just to leave." She giggled. "Never did get my tortellini either," he said. "I'm welcome in the shadier parts of Knockturn Alley and that's about it. Usually I cook something myself. The muggles stare at me like a freak but at least they won't turn me in. By the way, if anyone asks, I'm an albino who was in a bad accident."

She waved her wand and transfigured her hospital gown into jeans, trainers, and a blue scoopneck long sleeve shirt. Once they stepped outside, she froze. She held a hand over her mouth. Off to the left was the graveyard. The same graveyard from Harry's pensieve. _Am I making a mistake being with him? He's not paralyzed anymore, he can use his magic now… should I go back to the Order? Should I give him a chance…? What am I doing, this is Voldemort! He's changed, though, hasn't he…? Or is he just acting…? Manipulating me, like Ginny?_

"You recognize the graveyard," he stated. It wasn't a question. "My father's grave, the place of my rebirth. I was barely alive after my Killing curse rebounded on me. Just held in place on Earth by my horcruxes… everything was pulling me to the netherworld, I had to fight constantly just to survive. Felt like constant suffocating, starving for air, for food or water, but being unable to even move a speck of dust. I couldn't even possess my old body again – a soul can't inhabit the dead. I possessed other animals, just to have a body to cling to and my basic needs met. Never did live long after I possessed them though. I preferred snakes just so I could have something to talk to." He paused. Hermione was listening intently. They walked into the graveyard.

"I wanted a human form to possess, to rejoin society, use a wand to heal myself, talk to people... I found Quirrell while I was in hiding in Albania. It was a relief at first, but eventually I wanted my own body, being able to control my own limbs, not being forced on the back of a head, which was inconvenient at best… even sleeping or bathing was problematic. I thought the stone would help, but failed to attain it. When Quirrell died, I was forced to possess animals again, until Wormtail found me. Through the Rudimentary Body potion I developed containing unicorn blood and Nagini's venom, I finally had a body that could hold a wand and perform magic. But the body of a helpless infant."

 _I remember Harry's memory in the Penseive of that night in the graveyard… he looked like a crouched human child, but hairless and scaly, a raw, reddish black, with feeble thin arms and legs, a flat snake-like face with red eyes…_

"A weak body that needed the potion every few hours just to survive… I had constant migraines from an adult mind trapped in an infant's brain. I was helpless, competely dependent on Wormtail. The height was wrong, the strength, the abilities… it felt just as foreign as possessing an animal or another person. Trapped in a body that didn't feel like my own. I wanted my old body and strength again."

He paused and saw realization dawning on Hermione's face. "So I researched healing magic, the dark arts, old magic, ran some Arithmancy tests, and found the potion that ultimately restored me to myself. The potion that unfortunately needed a servant's flesh, the bone of my father, and my enemy's blood. I had hoped that it would restore me to my original Tom Riddle appearance, but no matter." He ran his hand along the edge of his father's gravestone. _The grass never did grow back after that night..._

"But why kill Cedric? Why try to kill Harry then? They were boys, children!" Hermione said, raising her voice.

"I didn't want any witnesses going back and reporting to Dumbledore, the Ministry, or anyone else and ruining my plans. I could accomplish much more in secrecy," he said.

"You could have oblivated them! And Frank the old gardener… you could've oblivated him too!" she yelled.

"How do you know about Frank?" Voldemort said, furrowing his brow.

"Er, Harry saw it in a vision," she said.

"Of course he did. And yes, I suppose I could have obliviated Frank or Cedric. I admit it didn't occur to me. Now, Harry was my enemy as mentioned in the prophecy… there was no question back then but to eliminate the threat. An obliviate would only borrow time. Sometimes killing is necessary, Hermione. Bellatrix was trying to kill you and the baby. If I didn't kill her then, she would only come back again. You'd be going throughout life constantly watching your back…." he said.

"She could've gone to Azkaban," Hermione argued.

"It'd be pointless – she already knows how to escape from there," he pointed out.

"Shall we go?" Voldemort said, and put an arm around her shoulders to support her. He led her down the cracked sidewalk and into the town. "Interesting," he muttered, barely audible, watching a couple women pass by them without a second thought.

"Sorry?" Hermione said, jerked out of her thoughts.

"Usually people cross the street to avoid me or give me a wide berth," Voldemort said.

"Well, you have a reputation…" Hermione said. He smirked.

"Muggles, I meant. Used to stare at me like a freak and avoid me. Now that you're with me they treat me like anyone else, a few women even smiled," he said.

"Before they felt unsafe or creeped out around you. Now you look like a father-to-be, in a relationship… it's assumed you must be a good person if I'm with you," Hermione explained.

"Interesting." He turned down another street, and they approached an old local diner with peeling letters.

"Well, look who showed up! I haven't seen ye in years!" the matronly waitress exclaimed. She looked to be in her 60s, and reminded Hermione of a cross between Molly and Madam Rosmerta. She led them to a table in the back and gave them their menus, napkins, and silverware. She glanced at Hermione's bare left hand. "Can't believe you've been gone all these years, get yerself a girlfriend and got a baby on the way! What can I get you to drink, miss?"

Hermione and Voldemort stared at each other. _Girlfriend?_

"Um, orange juice," Hermione said, realizing she was waiting for answer.

"And the usual for you, son? Toast and a black coffee?" she asked.

"You remembered," Voldemort murmured.

"Course I did – I never forget a face! I'll be back with your drinks," she said, and left to bring another table their check.

"Girlfriend…?" he muttered, once the waitress left. "That would make me your…"

"The Order's been calling you my boyfriend or in Sirius's case, 'baby daddy.' Although both sound ridiculous, especially to describe you," Hermione said.

"Indeed," he said. She perused the menu.

A few moments later, the waitress returned and set down their drinks. She pulled out a pencil from behind her ear and a pad of paper in her apron. "What can I get you?" she asked.

"Eggs, bangers, toast, oatmeal, and pancakes please," Hermione said.

"That baby's making you hungry!" she laughed. "I remember how it is, got four kids of my own and three grandchildren! I'll put that order right in for you." She scurried off to alert the kitchen.

Voldemort leaned forward. "I meant to ask, where are your parents? Am I to be taken home to Mommy and Daddy soon?" He smirked.

"I wiped their memories of me. Vanished all my belongings, my presence in the photographs, any trace of me," she said glumly.

"Why would you do such a thing?" he said.

"I thought you or the Death Eaters might come calling, seeking my whereabouts since I was always with Harry."

He nodded and sipped his coffee.

"Did you ever…?" Hermione asked, eyebrows knitted together.

"Never crossed my mind."

"Oh," she said. _I never had to wipe their memories…I miss them, I want to see them, but I'm just a stranger to them now. All for nothing._

He leaned in close. "Obliviate isn't always permanent. If something triggers the memory, it can come back… all those witches and wizards Lockhart ripped off, back in the day? Some of them got ahold of his books and it brought back their memories… Lockhart's in lawsuits up to his arse now. A victim of his own success. Still in the curse damage ward though, unable to remember even his own name."

"You're saying my parents could remember me…?" she asked.

"Possibly. Unless you wiped the memories of you from neighbors, primary schoolteachers, family friends, and relatives, I'm sure one of them would've asked about you at some point… or if you were to give them an old photo or relic of yourself…" he said, looking at her intently.

"I want to see them again, talk to them, but so much has happened, I wouldn't even know what to say," Hermione said. "For starters, how would I explain you? Us? I even remember describing you as some sort of magical Hitler…"

Voldemort winced. "Bit harsh, don't you think? He's responsible for orders of magnitude more deaths than me…"

"I was referring to your views on social classes in society and this grand vision of yours to make wizarding society great again and taking control of the Ministry and distributing anti-muggleborn propaganada and forcing muggleborns identify themselves... you even started a war," Hermione clarified.

"I see your point. Although even back then I had no desire to off all muggleborns. Or muggles. Threats to me or to my vision, yes. But never some sort of mass 'Final Solution' – the wizarding population in Britain is 3,000 at most," he said.

"Why did you let me live then when you heard the prophecy about us?" Hermione asked. "I was on the opposite side of the war, killing me would make sure the prophecy never happened…."

"The mind is a terrible thing to waste. So many idiots, and so few brilliant witches and wizards out there. Periodicially I check Hogwart's records – OWL scores, NEWT scores, and such. Your scores have always been off the charts – in everything. Leaps ahead of your classmates. The only others with scores like yours are Albus, Severus, and myself. I knew you were destined for great things."

"I spent just about all my free time studying, reading, researching…" Hermione said. _Ron always made fun of me for going to the library, called me a bookworm or a know-it-all… Severus even called me an insufferable know-it-all, although that was after I kept raising my hand in class…_

"So did I. Doesn't matter how you got there. Just the fact that you had that ambition, that motivation for success and capacity for intelligence that led you to brilliance…" He was staring intently into her eyes. _That's why I fell in love with you._ "So many just do the minimal effort at anything, don't care about failure."

The waitress came back a little while later to drop off their food. "So how long have you two been together?"

Hermione and Voldemort glanced at each other.

"Since last May," Hermione offered.

"You knocked her up after only a few months? Son, don't they have condoms where you come from?" she scolded.

"Guess I forgot," Voldemort murmured.

"You're what, in your fifties? You're too old to forget that kind of thing!" she scolded.

She went to greet some customers that walked in. Hermione turned back to Voldemort. He had a toothy grin. "Fifties," she snorted. _He was born in 1926, which makes him 86 years old! I guess he could pass for fifties…Must be all those immortality experiments he did, or having to build a new body… Gods, he's old enough to be my grandfather!_

Towards the end of the meal she paused and put her silverware down, frowning. "I'm not living in that house," she said flatly.

"I know it's a bit dusty and outdated, but it just needs a few cleaning charms and charms to fix up the paint and appliances…" he admitted.

"It's the location I don't like," she said.

"Fine. A few charms on the windows then," he said.

"I don't want to see that graveyard every time I enter and leave the house!" she said. A few diners turned and stared. She lowered her voice and hissed, "My friend almost died there because of you!"

"Your friend was a threat and the enemy. Kill or be killed. Nonetheless, he and I agreed to leave each other in peace, on your account. We made a truce, ended the war. Just as you asked. All of this was in the past; almost twenty years ago," he said in a low voice.

"And I am grateful for that. Thank you. But I still don't want to be reminded of the past every time I use the front door! All I ask is, can we move somewhere else?" she asked.

He sipped the rest of his coffee, flagged down the waitress, and paid the bill.

"I suppose that would be amenable. We can fix it up and sell it. The Riddles own it outright, and with some of my investments I can purchase a new home upfront… maybe move to a wizarding neighborhood. Did you rent or own your home in Guatemala?"

"Rented. I knew I'd go back home to England eventually, just wasn't sure when. Which reminds me, I have to pay my taxes for last year and rescind my citizenship. Why a wizarding neighborhood? What's wrong with living near muggles?" she said, accusatory.

"Our child fought off a killing curse before she was even born. The prophecy says she's supposed to rival Merlin himself. Try explaining her accidental magic outbursts to the muggles," Voldemort pointed out.

"I still think it's just your bias against muggles, but that is a fair point. Spinner's End is a bit dodgy… what about Ottery St. Catchpole? I've heard that's a safe neighborhood, great for families…" Hermione said.

"Course it is, it's mostly Ministry members and Aurors that live there. Who would turn me in before the ink was dry on the title. No. Puddlemere?" Voldemort offered.

"The town revolves around the Puddlemere United team! What about Tinsworth? Right near the coast…?" Hermione suggested.

"Possibly. We should look at Barnton and Ilkley too."

As they left, they overheard the waitress talking to another. "You remember that albino I was telling you about? He found himself a girlfriend! If he can find someone so you can you!"

They looked at each other and started laughing.

...

"New place?" Lucius said, as Voldemort and Hermione greeted him and Narcissa at the front door. He hid it well, but Hermione could see Lucius glance curiously between them and at her stomach. Baby was due in a week or two; her belly was round and full.

"There was a complaint about the location of Riddle Manor," Voldemort said.

"The location? Oh…." Lucius said as it dawned on him. "Well being next to a graveyard is bad luck, anyway. Place is probably haunted. I like this new place; much more airy and modern."

"And you're neighbors with us and the Snapes now," Narcissa added. "Shall we sit down?" she asked, seeing Hermione rubbing her lower back.

"Can I get you anything? Tea?" Hermione asked. _Feels odd serving tea to the Malfoys but Mum always offered tea and crumpets to guests…_

"Don't worry, dear," Narcissa said and snapped her fingers. A house elf appeared with a silver tray of tea, a creamer, sugar, and biscuits and started pouring the tea. Hermione frowned in disapproval but said nothing. Somehow the elf must've known Voldemort was there, as there was a teacup of black coffee on the tray.

"We brought some things for the baby," Narcissa said, after daintly taking a bite of her biscuit. She pulled out of her pocket a designer purse. She pulled something out and whispered the engorgio spell. It was a designer crib, white hardwood with champagne detail and accents on the edges. It had soft and plush bedding, and she had arranged some baby toys in there such as a toy wand, a toy broomstick, and baby books. "Draco's old crib… we were saving it for a grandchild but he doesn't want it. It has enchantments to keep baby warm, lull baby to sleep, play music, protect baby, warn you if something's wrong…"

Hermione ran her hand over the edge, mouth agape. "Thank you," she murmured. She looked over at Voldemort who was admiring it as well, but had a guarded expression.

"Thanks," he grunted. "But why…?" he said, with a raised eyebrow.

"It was just taking up space in our attic and we figured the next Heir of Slytherin could use it," Lucius drawled. Voldemort looked suspicious but said nothing.

Lucius spooned heapfuls of sugar into his tea. "I should tell you," he said, leaning in and changing to a more serious tone. "Rodolphus is not happy." Voldemort frowned. Hermione turned towards Lucius. "Avery let slip that Bella was cheating on him with you. He's out for revenge…I'm not sure if he's more upset by Bella's death or that she wasn't faithful."

Voldemort brushed it aside. "Let him try. I can take him on in my sleep."

"He knows that. He's thinking more of 'eye-for-an-eye' revenge… he's planning to come after Hermione. And next to him, she's not much of a fighter. You remember his style...? Playing with his prey before he eats it?"

Hermione's face paled and she set her cup down with a clatter. Voldemort grasped her hand. His red eyes narrowed. "He knows if he does anything to her, I'll hunt him down."

"That wouldn't take back what he does to her. I don't think he cares much about his own life right now. Bella was everything to him and he lost her. And then Avery let it slip about her affair… I think he was trying to make him feel better about losing Bella. Rodolphus is humiliated about the fact that everyone else knew, feels emasculated and angry that Bella was cheating on him under his nose, and is depressed about her passing. He's not thinking clearly… Severus and I have been trying to talk him out of it but he seems pretty determined…"

Voldemort rubbed his bald temples. "Normally I'd take preventative action but I've given my word to Hermione not to harm anyone else. It'd be so easy though. Just one more. Permanent. Done." He turned towards her expectantly.

"No," she said flatly.

"Your own life is at stake. Have some self-preservation. Sometimes threats must be eliminated," he said firmly.

"No. I can go into hiding, wait until he calms down," she argued. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Malfoys watching them curiously.

"Fine," Voldemort said. "But I doubt he will. Don't go in public."

"I suppose this is a bad time to tell you that my friends wanted to meet me for lunch Wednesday?" Hermione said with a sheepish smile.

"Go to a muggle establishment and don't go alone. Which friends?" he said, his eyes narrowed.

"Er, Harry, Ginny, and Ron," she said, and steeled herself for his reaction.

Oddly enough, Voldemort's face relaxed. "Stay by Harry's side. I've fought him enough times to know he could fend off Rodolphus."

Hermione picked up the toy boomstick and toy wand out of the crib. The wand's tip emitted sparks at her touch, and the broomstick hovered a couple feet off the ground. "Wish I had these when I was little and playing witches. Had to use a stick for a wand and ran with a broom between our legs pretending we were flying…"

Lucius and Narcissa started laughing. Lucius almost spat out his tea.

Voldemort had a nostalgic, knowing smile. "I remember that," he murmured. "And wizards looked like Dumbledore, witches were green-skinned with warts and talons and ate children…"

"Merlin," said Lucius. "Sounds more like a hag. I can't imagine you running around with a broom like that…"

"I grew up in a muggle orphanage," Voldemort admitted. "My dad left my mum when she got pregnant, and she died in childbirth."

"Always assumed you were pureblooded until I bothered to research the Tom Riddle name when you gave me the diary for safekeeping," Lucius drawled. "I was, what's the word? A bit gobsmacked when I found out. Kept that bit to myself."

"As I'm sure you found out, a direct descendant of Slytherin through my mum's side. But yes, my dad was a muggle, unfortunately."

Hermione's lips thinned. "Why does blood even matter?" she burst out. "Sure, Dumbledore was pureblooded and brilliant and fairly powerful, as are you two, but Vincent Crabbe or Gregory Goyle? Neville Longbottom? Never struck me as that intelligent. Or magical. Argus Filch is pureblooded and he's a bloody squib. I just don't see any connection."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Lucius said, amused. "And it has nothing to do with brains or magic. We're just better than everyone else."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Voldemort put a hand on her thigh to stop her. "Drop it," he hissed.

"But…" Hermione protested.

"Drop it," Voldemort hissed. "You won't change his mind, he won't change yours."

Hermione froze as a thought occurred to her. "Muggle children would say 'abracadabra' pretending to cast a spell… That's a bastardization of 'Avada Kedavra,' isn't it?"

Lucius and Voldemort stared at her a long moment. "It probably is," Voldemort conceded.

"That's the one spell muggles have heard so much that a corruption of it is a household term?" Hermione said angrily.

"It would certainly be memorable to any muggle who witnessed it. There's been a lot of violent clashes between magicfolk and muggles over history…" Narcissa said gently. "So what's baby's name going to be?"

"Er, we haven't discussed that yet," Hermione said.

"All I can say is, go out on dates now while you can, and get your sleep now," Narcissa said. "You won't be doing much of either once the baby comes."

"When did Draco start sleeping through the night?" Hermione asked. "I've seen all kinds of age ranges in my baby books."

"When he was almost a year old… but if it's not one thing, it's another. 'Mum, I can't sleep, there's a troll under my bed.' 'Mum, I had a nightmare there was a Death Eater in our house!'"

Lucius, Voldemort, and Hermione started laughing.

"I don't remember that," Lucius said.

"You were sleeping, dear. He was about five, ran into our room... Had to reassure him with a straight face that no, there weren't any Death Eaters in the house. Didn't want to get into all that just yet. And even if he's sleeping fine, then it's the husband snoring or three am Death Eater meetings… just can't leave quietly. It's 'Bloody hell, he's calling now?! It's three in the bloody morning! Where's my mask? Have you seen my mask?' Just summon it, dear… why meetings have to be at 3 am, I don't know."

"I liked seeing who could get there the quickest," Voldemort said, nonchalant.

"Snore? I don't snore," Lucius said.

Narcissa nodded. "Usually after you go out drinking. Or in pollen season."

...

That night, while they lay in bed reading, Voldemort set aside his book ( _Ancient and Forgotten Magic of the Polynesians)_ and turned to her. "We should think of a name for the child… you're due in a few days."

She put down _A Healer's Magic: A Companion Work to the Ultimate Guide for the Master Healer._ "I was thinking of Rose for a girl… it was my mum's name," Hermione said. "Haven't thought of a middle name though."

"Rose is fine," Voldemort said. "My mum's name was Merope, that could be a middle name."

"Rose Merope Granger… I like it," Hermione said.

"Granger?" he said.

"What did you have in mind, Rose Merope Voldemort? We can't name our child that…think of when she applies for jobs and has to put Voldemort on her resume!" Hermione said.

"I was thinking Riddle," he said.

"We're not married, I'm the one carrying the child and giving birth to it…" Hermione said. "And what if you decide to leave the family and I end up raising her myself?"

"I'm not leaving," he said, and rested a hand on her belly. Rose pushed against his hand.

"Going back to your old name?" she asked, with a glint in her eye.

"Thinking about it," he said. Rose kicked him.

"No, I have to leave… they'll be waiting for me," Hermione said, half-heartedly pushing him away. They were on the bed, and he had lifted her robe above her waist, and pulled her knickers aside.

"They can wait," he whispered in her ear, and heard her gasp as he licked and nibbled the shell of her ear. He licked her folds, fingering her nub. She arched her back, seeking release; she was aching with need. He inserted a finger; she was gushing wet. Fingering her, he felt her clenching and arching towards his him.

"Fuck me!" she said. She was aching so much it was almost painful. He thrust deep inside her, filling her and relieving the ache with every probing thrust. His hands were in her hair, he crushed her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue entangled with hers. He reached down and fingered her nub, building up the tension until she felt an explosive orgasm, waves of pleasure wracking her body and sweet release.

"Stick your arse in the air," he grunted, and grabbed her arse as he impaled himself deep inside her womanhood, pulled at her hair, slapped her arse, fingered her nub and brought her to yet another orgasm. He flipped her over to her back and brought her to release yet again before he came himself. Thoroughly satiated, she felt thoroughly relaxed and high, even. They lay on the bed a few minutes before she realized she should get going. She hurriedly got dressed and apparated to a hidden corner by the muggle tavern.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, beaming. Ginny, Harry, and Ron stopped their conversation mid-sentence and stared.

"Wow," Ginny said.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione said. Ginny looked around to make sure no muggles were looking and conjured a mirror. Her hair was a bushy mess, her lips were swollen and bruised, her cheeks were flushed, and she couldn't seem to wipe off the grin from her face. She braided her hair. "He could've told me before he let me leave the house…" she muttered under her breath. "I can't tell if he didn't notice or was trying to mess with you lot."

"Probably the second but if you'd ask him, plead the former," Ginny said. "So other than some hot shagging, how are things between you two? Last I saw you, you were in a coma."

"We're fine… been moving into our new home, getting the nursery ready. Reading and chatting in the evenings," Hermione said.

"New home? I thought he lived at Riddle Manor in Little Hangleton," Harry said, after the waiter dropped off their plates.

"He did. I didn't like seeing the graveyard from my house though…didn't want to be reminded of the past everyday. He sold it and bought our new home. It's nicer – much more modern, more light and space," Hermione said. She cut into her steak and kidney pie and took a bite.

"Where do you live now?" Ginny asked, dumping ketchup on her fish and chips.

"Ilkley – nice wizarding neighborhood in West Yorkshire. Nice modern stone house with big windows…Severus and Tonks live down the street and Lucius and Narcissa are in their mansion a few blocks down. They stopped by to visit the other day, brought some things for the baby," Hermione said.

Ron made a face. "Ugh. She's getting all cozy with Snape and the Malfoys."

"They're nice to me," Hermione said. "Well not Draco, but his parents at least. And Severus and I have been friends for awhile now. They're… they're really not that bad."

Harry guffawed.

"Not that bad?" Ron said thickly, through a mouthful of doorstep sandwich. You're good mates with all the Death Eaters now, are you?"

"Not all of them. Rodolphus is out for revenge and is after me, apparently," Hermione said into her glass.

"Now you tell us?!" Harry said, looking around wildly.

"We should be fine here… it's a muggle establishment," Ginny said. She frowned at her chips and sprinkled salt on them.

Just as they were finishing lunch, one of the windows shattered. The lights went dark. One of the waitresses screamed. Rodolphus hobbled out from the kitchen, throwing spells everywhere. The cook shouted and tried to knock him out with a frying pan, but Rodolphus hit him with a curse and sent him flying off his feet. He hit the back wall and fell to the floor unconscious. Patrons and waiters ran screaming out of the diner. Rodolphus threw curses and hexes at their backs, hitting a few who screamed or fell to the ground.

He staggered towards the four of them. He had a shark-like grin on his gaunt face when he spotted Hermione. Harry had already drawn his wand and deflected Rodolphus's curses. Ginny was not far behind. She threw up a shield charm. Harry threw Sectumsempra at him but Rodolphus dodged it. Ron cast the Stupefy hex. Rodolphus deflected it and Ron had to dodge his own spell. Ginny sent her Bat Bogey Hex towards him, just as Hermione conjured her bluebell fire and threw it in Rodolphus's direction. "Get her out of here! Take her home!" Harry growled and Ron disapparated with her. Harry raised his wand to continue dueling Rodolphus, but he disapparated as well. "Damnit," Harry said under his breath.

Ginny left some pounds on the table to pay the bill. "Oh, she left her handbag," Ginny said, and grabbed it off the table. "Guess we should return it..." her voice faltered.

"Ikley it is then, near the Snapes. Great," Harry said, grabbed her arm. They apparated into a quiet, grassy neighborhood with big homes. "So Snape and Tonks just moved a couple months ago into that one over there with the addition…probably for his lab. Let's see, down the street, modern stone house with big windows…. These are older…"

"Look! That one's for sale!" Ginny said excitedly, pointing at a house on the corner.

"I don't want the Malfoys, Snape, and Voldemort for neighbors," Harry said flatly.

"Do you think it's that one?" she asked, pointing at a stone-facade house with the aforementioned big windows and nice landscaping. Even if it's not, we could ask them..."

They looked at each other, walked up the sidewalk, and Harry knocked.

"Let's just leave it here," Ginny said. Her heart was racing. _I hope she answers the door._ Harry squeezed her hand.

"If Rodolphus is out for her, I want to make sure she got home safe," Harry said.

Voldemort answered the door, scowling down at them.

Ginny squeaked. _Drat._ She cleared her throat. "Is…is Hermione here? She left this…" She gave the handbag to Voldemort, who raised an eyebrow and placed it on a table in the foyer.

"I thought she was with you," he said, frowning.

"She was. Rodolphus found us and I told Ron to take her home. Ron disapparated with her," Harry said.

"I wonder if he took her back to his home – to the Burrow?" Ginny said. _He still likes her… oh no..._

"Damn it," Harry said, and clapped a hand to his forehead. "Bloody prat probably thinks he's rescuing her."

Voldemort sneered and disapparated.

"Mum's going to freak out when he shows up," Ginny said. She took Harry's hand and apparated to the Burrow.


	2. Birth

_Chapter Two - Birth  
_

"Ron you prat! Why'd you bring me here?" Hermione said, looking around at the Burrow. They were in his bedroom. "I'm leaving."

"No, wait, Mione, hear me out…. Look, I love you. I'm sorry for being a prat to you before you left for Guatemala. I missed you…. I've always liked you… you're safe now, I rescued you from Voldemort. We can go into hiding from him, get married, I'll help you raise the baby. I know a lot about babies… I want you to be happy. We could even hide as muggles, go to the States across the pond…"

"Rescue me? You bloody kidnapped me! I'm happy with him, I love him! You're a good friend, but…"

Ron kissed her and his wandering hands found her arse. She was stunned for a second before she pushed him off.

…

"What's going on?!" Molly yelled, alarmed, when she saw Voldemort apparate in her house, shortly followed by Ginny and Harry. "Does no one use the front door anymore?!"

"Where is she?" Voldemort said in a harsh whisper. Molly hesitated, but he heard the voices from upstairs and ran up the stairs. Ginny, Harry, and Molly followed.

He got there just in time to see them kissing. His red eyes glowered with fury and his fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. Just as quickly, she pushed him off.

"Get off me!" she snarled, and hit Ron in the chest, hard enough that he fell and was knocked unconscious when his head hit the floor. Voldemort exhaled with relief.

"Oh shit…I didn't mean to knock him out," she mumbled to herself.

"He won't be out for long," Voldemort said, amused. "Takes more force than that."

She whirled around and saw them in the doorway. Voldemort strode in and stood over Ron. After a few seconds, Ron blinked, grunted, and sat up, rubbing the back of his head. Voldemort pulled his wand out. Ron's eyes widened and he crawled backwards and got to his feet, backing towards the door. Voldemort's serpentine face was twisted into fury and hatred, his nostrils flared, his red eyes narrowed to slits. He backed Ron into a wall and raised his wand. Ron stared at it with wide eyes and whimpered. His face was so pale his freckles stood in stark contrast. Pointing his wand into Ron's chest for emphasis, Voldemort hissed in a low, deadly voice, "Don't. Touch. Her. Again." Ron backed out the door, stumbled on his feet, and flew down the stairs.

Voldemort took a deep, calming breath and pocketed his wand. He swiveled on his heel and saw Hermione and the rest staring wide-eyed.

He took Hermione's hand. "That was scary," she said. _Poor Ron…_

"Thank you," he said, smirking. She stared at him. He took her arm and turned to leave.

"Can't you do something about Rodolphus? He was one of yours," Harry said.

"There's my usual method but Hermione doesn't approve," Voldemort said.

"He needs to be taken care of, Hermione," Harry said to her. "Sometimes threats must be eliminated."

She stared at him. _Just what he said. Exactly what Voldemort said._ "You're an auror! He should be arrested, have a trial, and rot in Azkaban!"

"He already knows how to escape from there…unless if you tell me the weak spot in the fortress I can have it fixed," he said, turning to Voldemort.

"Nice try…. If I ever end up there myself I don't plan on staying. Shall we?" he said, and Hermione hesitated before taking his arm.

…

Tonks and Snape came over one afternoon. Tonks pulled some things out of her pocket and enlarged them. There were some suitcases, a trunk, and an overflowing bag. "Been meaning to get your things back to you," Tonks said.

"Thank you," Hermione said.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

"She was staying with us before the battle," Tonks explained. "Lived in a flat for a bit, moved in to Order headquarters, and then Sev offered up our place after she and Harry had a row." She accidentally knocked over the bag and spilled some books and stray clothing on the floor.

"What is this?" Voldemort said, reaching down and picking up between his long fingernails the edible chocolate Dark Mark thong.

Hermione turned red. "A Christmas gift from George. He – he thought you'd like it," she stammered. "Says he found a shop in Diagon Alley making them."

Voldemort turned it over in his spidery pale hands. "They took my Dark Mark and made it into dark chocolate knickers…." he murmured.

"Owner said they're a real hit," Tonks said. "Said she can't keep them in stock. I told her she should expand into a wizard's version, what with the snake…she said I'm not the first to tell her that and she's working on a design for it."

Voldemort's expression was priceless.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Aside from Tonks returning your unmentionables, I meant to tell you the patent came in a couple weeks ago, and our paper was published in _Potions Weekly_." He pulled a copy of the patent and magazine out of his cloak and handed it to her. "It made the front cover."

Hermione's eyes widened and she looked over the patent, scanned the cover of _Potions Weekly_ [a diagram of the pill], and flipped to the indicated page. Voldemort read over her shoulder.

"That was your idea," he murmured.

"Severus and I tested it out on a few potions in his lab, ran some Arithmancy tests on it, and started some trials to see if it worked as promised," she said. "How did the trials go?"

"Exactly as you thought. The Painless Relief and Mood-Altering potions went well, and I'm finishing up testing the Muscle Strengthening Potion." Snape said. "And I decided to give you a third of my profits from it," he added.

"It was my idea, I want half," Hermione said firmly.

"I'm doing all the brewing. Forty percent, final offer," Snape said.

"Deal," Hermione said, and they shook hands. He pulled out a Gringotts banknote, wrote it out, and gave it to her. Her eyes widened. Voldemort read over her shoulder with raised eyebrows.

"St. Mungo's made a huge advance order of the Painless Relief potion. Fifty percent in advance, fifty percent when they receive it. A few international hospitals and some schools, Hogwarts included, have also made orders. I've had to hire an assistant just to handle all the brewing. And I reconsidered the muggle idea of implanting something for Wolfsbane or the Contraceptive Potion. I can't find a way to make the pill last longer than a day if ingested, but if sterile, it could remain under the skin. Tonks assures me that there are people out there desperate not to become werewolves or beget children. Desperate enough to implant something."

"Excellent," Hermione said. "Was my paper about the Nerve Regrowth potion ever published?"

Snape nodded. "Indeed it was. Published in _Potions Weekly_ and _Healer's Guide._ That one made front cover on _Healer's Guide._ "He handed them both to her, and a note on official-looking stationary. "The MHO is looking into it, planning to start trials and eventually approve it for use in hospitals or hospital-like settings. They want to interview you for more details."

Hermione glanced at Voldemort and saw he had a look of pride on his pale face.

…

"Molly?" Voldemort whispered from the Floo. She continued sleeping, no doubt unable to hear him over Arthur's snoring. "Molly!" Voldemort said louder, and she awoke with a start. She looked around wildly until she saw his serpentine face in the fireplace, his red eyes glinting with the flames. Hands shaking, she grabbed a threadbare robe off a hook by her bed and threw it over her nightgown. She glanced back at Arthur, who was still sleeping.

She held her wand in a trembling hand, and kneeled by the fire. Her face was so pale her freckles stood out more than usual. "You do know, every time I hear your voice in my house I almost have a heart attack?" she said in a tight whisper.

"Heart attack?" Voldemort echoed.

"You enchanted Ginny with that diary of yours! Fred's gone!" she said. "Blimey, my heart's going that fast!" She put a hand over her heart.

"I didn't know Lucius planned on slipping the diary to her. He was supposed to keep it safe in his manor. And Bella killed Fred in battle. I need your help," Voldemort said calmly.

"Your snake attacked Arthur! Not to mention all the business with my son-in-law…" Molly said.

"Fine, that was me," he admitted. Molly nodded. "I wouldn't have come but Hermione needs you. She's in labor."

"Well why didn't you say so?" Molly said in a raised voice, and then checked that Arthur was still sleeping. "You could've started with that…." she said in a low whisper. "How far apart are her contractions?"

"Eight minutes," he said.

"Has she lost her mucus plug yet?" Molly asked.

"Mucus plug?" he said slowly.

"How dilated is she?" Molly asked.

"Dilated?" Voldemort echoed.

"I better come over then." She raised her wand. " _Accio_ birth box!" and a cardboard box came speeding into the room. "Arthur, I'm leaving to help Hermione through childbirth!" she called. He grumbled something incoherent and rolled over. She waved him off dismissively.

Voldemort extended a pale, spidery hand through the green fire. She reached out her hand, but hesitated a moment. "Can I trust you?" she said slowly.

"I just want to get Hermione the help she needs. I can ask Narcissa but she wanted you. I'm not going to hurt you," Voldemort said patiently. She looked into his red eyes a long moment as if deciding whether to trust him or not. She conjured a scrap of parchment and wrote a note for Arthur before placing it on his nightstand. Voldemort extended his hand through the fire again and she took it.

"Where is she?" Molly said, looking around. Voldemort dusted himself off. "In the bed. She wanted you to coach her through childbirth…she didn't tell you?" Molly shook her head and followed him to the bedroom, where Hermione was propped on a pillow, cradling her stomach. Molly rushed over.

"Sorry Molly, I meant to tell you…. I just thought with all the births you've been through…" she grunted, as another contraction took over.

"Don't apologize, dear… I'm happy to! I'll help you until you get to contractions five minutes apart and then we should get you to St. Mungo's," Molly said.

"No! I want to have a homebirth," Hermione said.

"A homebirth?" Molly said.

"She wants me by her side for it, and I'm not exactly welcome at St. Mungo's. Had to avoid the Healers when I went to see her when she was in a coma," Voldemort explained.

"We can try. But in the end all that matters is that you and baby are alive and healthy at the end. If anything goes wrong – meconium in the amniotic fluid, breach position, shoulder dystocia – we're taking you to St. Mungo's," Molly said, glancing at Voldemort. He nodded in agreement.

"How far along are you?" Molly said.

"I lost the plug and I'm two centimeters dilated," Hermione said.

"So it's still very early labor – only eight more centimeters to go until baby passes through your cervix! The first childbirth is always very long – Bill took almost two days, and it was progressively shorter until Ginny, who took just over an hour from start to finish. I'm going to show you some techniques for pain management and then both of you should try to get some rest… you'll both need your strength for later. And you should read this," she said, handing Voldemort a thin book titled _The Witch in Labor._ "It explains the stages of childbirth and has some illustrations and tips for pain management. I'm um, not sure what to call you…." she said, faltering.

"Call me Tom," he said after a long moment.

"Decided to go back to your birth name?" Hermione said.

"The war's over. I'm about to be a father, I don't want my daughter knowing me as 'Lord Voldemort,'" he said.

"Good idea," Molly said. "So I'll ask the Snapes for some pain relieving potions and balms. Floo me when it progresses. And Hermione… try taking a warm bath. It can help with the contractions."

"No…I want to do a potion-free childbirth," Hermione said. "Natural…"

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "Take the potions," he insisted. "I've heard it's one of the most painful experiences one can go through…"

"Whatever you like dear," Molly said. "I'll get it just in case you change your mind, though." She disapparated.

As per Molly's suggestion, Voldemort started a warm bath for her and left. Hermione disrobed and settled into the bath. He came back with a candelabra and a stack of books – _Baby's Magic, The Mother Witch,_ and her well-worn copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ and a worn-out Jane Austen book he found in her suitcase. She looked up at him quizzically. _Nice of him. Voldemort doesn't do 'nice.'_

As if reading her mind, he said, "Molly suggested a warm bath to ease the contractions and relax you. I thought the books might distract you from the pain."

He had also found a stack of books with titles like _The Rise of the Dark Lord_ and _Lord Voldemort: A Biography_ in her luggage _,_ but decided not to comment. Or bring them to her.

Hermione relaxed in her bubble bath, trying to read and take her mind off the contractions, wincing as each one hit her. She tried meditating, focusing on her breathing and nothing else as the contractions hit her.

Hours later, Hermione had progressed and was now feeling the contractions in her back, five minutes apart, each contraction over a minute long.

"Let me show you Occlumency," he said after a long moment. "It can help to block out the pain."

She nodded as another contraction took over.

Once it subsided, he said, "Try to put up a mental wall against the pain. Breathe calmly and deeply, and envision yourself building a wall around your mind… brick by brick, stone by stone, whatever building material you prefer. A wall, a fortress even. When you start to feel the next wave of pain, envision it rebounding off the wall, unable to penetrate it. Continue building the wall in your mind – taller, another layer…"

She nodded, and grimaced as another wave started. _Building my wall…a wall of concrete blocks._ But as the pain increased she felt it hammer against the wall as fast as she built it until it broke through. She shoke her head. "Didn't work."

"No one gets it their first time," Voldemort said. "There's another method you can try…. Treat the pain like a dementor – focus on a happy memory."

Hermione nodded and closed her eyes. _I'm five years old, at the beach with my parents and cousins, feeling the sand between my toes, the sun on my face, smelling the salty ocean air, feeling a light breeze, hearing the gulls cry and the ocean waves crash on the shore…_ _I'm jumping in the waves….I'm jumping in... I'm…._ the sky darkened, her hips started splitting apart, and the gulls and ocean waves were silent.

"Why didn't you teach me this before?" Hermione complained. She tried again, but it was hard to master a new skill when every five minutes she felt like her hips were breaking apart. In the end, they both realized it was a fruitless endeavor. "Teach me before the next kid comes," Hermione grunted, rubbing her back, hobbling around the room.

"Next kid?" Voldemort said. "You want another child with _me_? You're thinking about that _now_?!"

"Who else? And Rose needs siblings… I always felt lonely growing...growing up," Hermione said, and trailed off as another contraction hit.

Later on, he tried giving her water and a sandwich but she vomited every time she took a bite from the pain.

"Floo Molly!" Hermione growled through gritted teeth as a particularly strong contraction reached its painful peak before subsiding. He flooed Molly again.

Molly guided Hermione in bending over with her hands on the wall, and she pressed on Hermione's hips, providing counter-pressure to relieve the sensation of her hips spreading apart with every contraction. "Not to worry dear… sometimes back labor happens. The baby's head is rubbing against your hipbones…You sure you don't want any potions?" After an hour of helping Hermione through every contraction, she wiped her brow and said, "Tom, you try. Put your hands on her hips like this, squeeze as hard as you can, and hold until she gets through the contraction. She'll tell you if it needs adjusting."

Another hour and Hermione's water broke, splashing down her legs and on Voldemort's feet. He jerked back, startled.

"Oh good, it's clear," Molly said. "Labor should progress more quickly now – now that baby's head is pushing directly on your cervix." She waved her wand and a blue seven appeared. "Three more centimeters left!"

A couple hours later the spell revealed a blue ten. The three of them were sweaty and exhausted, but none more so than Hermione. Her bushy hair was drenched in sweat and clung to her face despite the messy braid she put it in. "Okay, are you ready to push?" Molly said. "Wait until you feel the need and then push as hard as you can!"

"Wait. I have to use the bathroom," Hermione said, and hobbled out of bed. Molly pushed her back on the mattress.

"No you don't. That's the baby's head pushing on your intestines! Squat on the bed and push like you have to poop!" Voldemort gave her an odd look but she ignored it. "It'll feel like taking the biggest poop of your life. Squatting will open your hips more, but you can lie down and spread your legs like you're at the Healer's… that's fine too."

Exhausted, Hermione opted for the second option. Molly held one foot for her to brace against as she was pushing, and she instructed Voldemort to do the same. "Now it's going to hurt when baby's head comes out – they call it the 'ring of fire' for a reason, I'm afraid."

Hermione squeezed Voldemort's free hand and screamed in pain as the top of baby's head exited her body. He winced.

"Breathe," Voldemort said softly. "Breathe…."

"You're crowning!" Molly said. "Reach down, you can feel your daughter's head! Yes, that's her hair! Okay keep pushing! Push! Push….! She's almost out!" One last push and scream, and Rose slid into Molly's hands. She glanced at her watch. "3:03 am!"

Hermione had tears in her eyes. She breathed a sigh of relief. _It's all over!_ _It's a baby! My baby! Oh my gods it's a baby!_

Molly handed Voldemort a pair of scissors. "Would you like the honors?"

He snipped the cord, but his face was drawn in concern. "She's gray… I thought they were supposed to come out red and crying…"

Molly had already whisked Rose away, and was rubbing her back vigorously with a warm towel. "Breathe," she whispered. "Breathe." Hermione glanced over and saw that Voldemort was holding his breath too, his face drawn in concern.

A few seconds, and Rose let out a little weak cry. Her pale skin flushed and the cry grew stronger. Molly wiped her down with the towel, diapered her, and placed her on Hermione's chest and guided her to Hermione's breast. "Tongue down," Molly said in a soft voice, and pressed Rose's tongue down to help her latch.

 _This is what nursing feels like? It feels so foreign…She's so little…something that big came out of me?!_

"And there's the placenta," Molly said matter-of-factly, as it slid out.

"Is there supposed to be that much blood?" Voldemort asked, eyeing the soaked sheets beneath Hermione. Molly nodded with a faint smile.

While Hermione nursed, Molly rubbed a healing balm on the tearing. "It'll help at least," she said, and wiped down Hermione's legs with a wet towel, scourgify-ed the sheets and floor, and summoned the crib and some baby blankets. She waved her wand over Rose and some numbers appeared – "19.5 inches, 7 pounds, 2 ounces."

Once Rose finished nursing and Hermione burped her, Molly swaddled her in a blanket and hesitated a moment before handing her to Voldemort. His pale face softened, and he gently brushed her velvety cheek. She had dark wavy hair, sapphire blue eyes, dark eyelashes and eyebrows, a cute little nose, pink little cheeks and red little lips. _She's beautiful…so tiny… so innocent… we made that?_

Molly glanced at the tender expression in his red serpentine eyes. _Just how Arthur looked, holding our children the first time…. They'll be alright. She'll be alright._

"I'll let you be… everyone needs some rest. Baby's going to start cluster-feeding in a day or two – wanting to nurse every hour for about 8 hours straight. Other than that, it'll be every 2-3 hours… her stomach's as big as a marble right now. Hermione, you should rest and only focus on the baby the next few weeks…. Everything else can wait. Use the healing and cooling balms, take the Painless Potion. Don't lift anything heavier than Rose."

"How long do I have to wait until…?" Hermione stammered, and trailed off.

"Um, wait six weeks before putting anything in there," Molly said, amused. She avoided looking at Voldemort. "If you use the healing balm twice a day you might get away with three weeks if you want to, but you have some tearing. It'll take a few months before it feels normal again, I'm afraid."

She cleared her throat. "And Tom – her hormones jumped off a cliff when the placenta came out, so she'll be moody the next six weeks or so. Not to mention sleep-deprived from baby… all I can say is be patient. With both of them."

...

The following night, Hermione woke with a start in the middle of the night, no sign of Voldemort in the bed or Rose in the cradle. She walked into the living room and found Voldemort rocking her back to sleep, the moonlight glowing on his pale bald head. Rose worked a hand free from the swaddle and poked his snake-like nose, a little smile on her face. He smiled back at her, and she grasped one of his spidery fingers with one little hand. Her little smile grew wider, as did his.

Hermione walked over to them and put her hands on his shoulders.

...

"You're cooking for Voldemort?" Harry said, leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. Ginny was working over the stove, one pot stirring itself while lasagna cooked in the oven.

"For the two of them, yes. My mum always said to bring food when you visit a newborn. Hermione's not able to cook right now. Do you think he'll be there?" Ginny said.

"She said he went out hunting with Malfoy and his friends…" Harry said. _Hunting. Of course._

"Well, Ron's late again, of course. I don't know why you invited him," Ginny said.

"I wasn't going to let him come, but he begged and pleaded, admitted he was a prat, and promised he'd be good this time," Harry said.

Ginny frowned. "He kidnapped her last time, he was kissing and groping her, for Merlin's sake. That's sexual assault!" Ginny hissed.

"Bit harsh, don't you think?" Harry said, turning to her. "Although I'm surprised Voldemort didn't kill him right there."

"No doubt he didn't want to face a row with the Missus," Ginny said.

Harry sniggered. "We're giving Ron a second chance… hope he behaves himself this time."

"Second and last," Ginny said firmly.

An hour later found them visiting Hermione and Rose, seated on the couch while Hermione nursed her, discussing the delivery. Harry and Ron were looking anywhere but at Hermione as she nursed – Ron kept staring at his feet or the rug, Harry gazing at the walls or Ginny. Once Hermione mentioned the baby crowning and the placenta coming out, Ron left for a long "trip to the loo" while Harry turned slightly green.

"What's he like as a dad?" Ginny asked. She had done their laundry and had it folding itself into neat little piles and hanging itself on hangers in mid-air while a broom swept the floor, the dishes washed themselves, and a rag wiped down the counters. Ron and Harry kept casting furtive glances at it all.

"He's great… he's so gentle and caring with her, you'd never think he used to be this evil Dark Lord… he holds her, rocks her to sleep…" Hermione said.

Ron and Harry made a face behind her back. Rose finished nursing and she burped her and put her back in the crib.

"Will you quit cleaning Voldemort's house, Gin? Give it a rest!" Harry said at last.

"Hermione has a newborn now – she shouldn't have to worry about doing chores. And if their household is anything like ours, she's doing most of the housework. Just like my mum did," Ginny said crossly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry said angrily.

"I work just as many hours as you, work just as hard, and I still get stuck doing the housework and cooking when I get home and on my days off. It's 2012 and it's still a bloody patriarchy," Ginny said, arms crossed. "Well, mum also said you shouldn't stay long when someone has a newborn so we should get going."

"Wait," Ron said.

"No, Ron," Ginny said warningly, but he ignored her. He pulled a ring out of his pocket and got down on one knee before Hermione. Hermione was shaking her head.

"Hermione, I love you. I want to marry you, I'll raise Rose as my own, I want you to be happy... I know you don't love me back, but you will, in time. I'll take care of you. Will you marry me?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry, but no."

Ron took her hands. "I saw how he gets when he's angry that day at the Burrow. Thought I was going to die! Every couple gets angry at each other sometimes and I don't want you to ever face that… I love you." He tried to slide the ring on her finger and she jerked her hand away.

"Ron, I said no!" she yelled. "I. Don't. Love. You. Even if you weren't a thickheaded idiot who can't take 'no' for an answer, the number of times you've insulted me, calling me a know-it-all or a bookworm, making fun of me going to the library or reading, insulting my hair… even aside from all that, I'm not attracted to you!"

"Why? I have a nose and hair at least," Ron said.

Hermione slapped him. She pulled her hair in exasperation. "You can't take 'no' for an answer, you don't respect me. You ruined our friendship," she said coldly. "I don't want to see you ever again, you hear me?" she yelled. "Never!"

"What...?" Ron said slowly, and she could hear his heart breaking.

Ginny and Harry were watching the exchange open-mouthed.

"We should go," Ginny said. "I think we've overstayed our welcome."

"You have," Voldemort sneered in a cold voice from the doorway. Ginny and Ron jumped. Ron's face paled again, and broke out in beads of cold sweat. Harry turned around. Hermione's face lit up when she saw him, and she crossed the room to be by his side. He put an arm around her.

"You're back early… when did you come in?" Hermione asked, smiling at him.

"Back when Ms. Potter was ranting about the patriarchy. Nice of Potter's wife to cook and clean for me," he said with a smirk, noticing the clothing folding itself, the broom sweeping, and the lasagna on the counter.

"You're welcome," Ginny stammered.

"Nice to see I still have that effect on the Weasleys," he observed. Ginny had paled as well when she saw him, and Ron was positively shaking. "I was beginning to think I lost my touch with you," he said, smiling down at Hermione.

"Hard to be scared of you when you saved my life twice," she said.

"You saved mine twice…we're even," he murmured.

"He almost killed you! Put you in a coma for three months!" Harry said.

"I almost killed _him_ , paralyzed _him_ for three months! Sorry about that," Hermione said to him.

"No harm done," he said, and petted her hair.

"Merlin, it's like they're _made_ for each other," Ginny said. "She's obviously happy, let's go, Ron." They turned to go.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Voldemort sneered. He wandlessly summoned the dropped engagement ring off the floor and thrust it in Ron's trembling hand. He grabbed Ron's hand and pulled him close. "Leave. Her. Alone. If I see you again, you _will_ regret it," he hissed in Ron's ear, a deadly whisper. Ron whimpered. He let him go, and Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder and the three disapparated.

Voldemort turned to Hermione. "Maybe we should get married. There seems to be a mistaken assumption that you're available."

She shook her head.

He frowned. "We're living together, have a child, pooled our finances, the war's over, we're as good as married, what else do you want?!"

"I want to marry you too… I just want to wait. Get to know each other more. Make sure we really are compatible," she said.

"Fine," he said. "Fine." He turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I came back to make sure the Weasley boy wasn't bothering you, and now I'm going back out hunting. They're waiting for me. By the way, we have dinner with the Malfoys tomorrow at 7. The Snapes are coming too."

"I love you," she said.

He disapparated. She sunk into a chair, head in her hands. _What have I done? Was he making a statement or was that his idea of a proposal? Is it so bad that I want to wait? Two wizards wanting to marry me and I turned them both down…. There's no divorce in the wizarding world. What if it doesn't work out? What if he goes back to being Lord Voldemort, or mistreats me or Rose?_ She looked around. _I need to get out of the house._

Alone and lost in thought, she put Rose in the stroller once she woke up and flooed to Diagon Alley. She wandered around, stopping by the bookstore, and checking the various shops. _It certainly looks different since last time I was here._ A bright and sunny day, she kept to the shade near the wall to keep Rose out of the sun. Just as she was passing by the entrance to Knockturn Alley, a gaunt hand grabbed her arm.

"There you are," said a low voice. Rodolphus crept out of the shadows. He looked more gaunt than before, he had bags under his shadowed eyes, his robes were stained and dirty, his hair was matted. "I knew I'd find you… and all alone too…" He had a predatory grin on his face. She tried to wrench her arm free but he had a death grip on her. She grabbed her wand with her free hand. _Shit! Shit shit shit!_


	3. Murderer

_Chapter Three - Murderer_

A wild idea occurred to her. _Lucius said he was depressed over her death… I wonder if empathy would disarm him..._ "You really loved her, didn't you?" Rodolphus blinked and froze. The predatory grin faded. Feeling braver, Hermione continued, "You loved her… you must've been devastated about her passing." He raised his wand, pointing it at her throat, and backed her into a corner.

"Don't mock me, mudblood!" he growled. "I've waited a long time for this…." he said, and pointed his wand deeper in her throat.

"Voldemort's going to come after you if you do anything to me," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

"Won't take back what I'm going to do to you," he growled. "He defiled my witch and killed her, fair's fair…" he said, and started to unravel her robes with a spell. Hermione stopped it with a wave of her wand and wrenched herself free of his grasp. His beady eyes fell on Rose, wide-eyed in the stroller. "Or, should I torture and kill his first born?" he said, with a toothy grin. "Would be a shame, wouldn't it? His only heir…. not even a week old yet, is she?"

"Don't touch her!" Hermione yelled.

He smirked and pointed his wand at Rose. "Crucio!" he growled. Rose screamed. She arched her back, straining against the stroller restraints, and her head flopped back and forth helplessly. _She can't even hold her head up yet! She's only a few days old!_ Rose screamed and cried, jerking like a rag doll against the restraints. Rodolphus had a twisted grin on his face.

Shaking with fury, blood pounding in her ears, fists clenched, Hermione raised her wand, and a green light hit Rodolphus in the chest. He fell backwards, slumped on the ground, the light gone from his eyes. Hermione freed a crying Rose from the stroller and held her tight. _It's all over… she's fine now, he's gone. Oh gods I killed someone! I'm a murderer…I could go to Azkaban…._ Hermione magicked the stroller to shrink and fit in her pocket, and sprinted towards the nearest floo, nearly knocking over an elderly witch on the way.

Back home, she sank on the couch and breastfed Rose to calm her down. She ran a diagnostic spell to confirm Rose's neck was okay after violently writhing under the curse. _You're okay, you're okay. Not even a week old and she's been crucioed. Gods, I'm a horrible mother._ She clutched Rose close, and tears began to fall. _I murdered someone…. I used the Avada Kedavra… I could go to Azkaban…. He could've tortured her more, raped me, killed us both…._

An overwhelming wave of nausea hit her. She only just had time to conjure a bucket before her stomach emptied itself.

Voldemort came home to find Hermione crying, shaking, hunched over, and holding Rose tight to her chest, as if she might break. He spotted the bucket by her side and wandlessly vanished it. "What's the matter with you?" he said slowly. She shook her head, her lips clamped shut. He watched her for a long while. Rose finally fell asleep in Hermione's arms.

"You were right," she said in a hollow voice.

"I'm right about a lot of things," he said smugly. He glanced down at Rose with concern. "Are you going to tell me what happened to you and Rose?" he said slowly.

She opened her mouth but no sound came out. She cradled Rose in one arm and gave him her wand with her free hand. "Priori…" she said in a tight voice.

He waved his wand and muttered, "Priori Incantatem." A ghostly figure of Rodolphus emerged from her wand.

"Didn't think she had it in her," Rodolphus muttered. He whirled around and assumed a groveling position when he saw Voldemort. "I am sorry, my Lord… deepest apologies…"

Voldemort's pale face twisted in loathing. He ended the spell. Hermione gently set a sleeping Rose into her crib, summoned from the bedroom.

"I think I finally understand you," Hermione said in a hollow voice, and blew her nose.

"There's wards on the house so you must've left…Diagon Alley?" he asked.

She nodded and swallowed. "He was coming out of Knockturn Alley, said he was going to rape and kill me… And then he saw Rose and decided to Crucio her… I was so mad… Never felt that angry before. I just wanted him dead… next thing I knew, the curse came out of my wand, I barely even remember saying the words. I was so scared… he could've killed us both. I killed somebody…I bloody murdered someone! I'm going to Azkaban, I'm going to Hell… I let our daugther be tortured and she's not even a week old yet! I'm a horrible mother…. I'm a … I'm a mur-murderer… I need a hug…" she rambled.

His lipless mouth twitched at the last. "I don't give _hugs_ ," he said stiffly. He handed her wand back, and his spidery hand lingered on hers. "But I will tell you… Everything's fine now. You protected Rose, saved her life, and your own. Hell doesn't exist. And no one goes to Azkaban for a murder in self-defense, or in defense of their newborn child."

She blinked. "You're not mad?" she asked.

"Mad?" he repeated. "I'm relieved…. Proud of you, even."

"I put our child in danger, killed one of your Death Eaters…"

He waved it off. "How did it feel?" he said softly, his lipless mouth curving in a smile. "Casting the curse…?"

She swallowed. "Honestly?" He nodded. She was quiet for awhile, and he was about to ask her again, when she said, "I felt…powerful. Alive. A rush…afterward there was a brief second where I wanted to do it again, even." She shivered. "And then I felt this crushing guilt."

"Intoxicating, isn't it?" he said. She nodded slowly. "The Dark Arts have their grip on you now… I can teach you to control it," he said. She paled a bit. He sat next to her and stretched out his legs. "With a stubborn mind and conscience like yours, it's probably a tenuous grip at best. You know, you're not the first to vomit after killing someone… My softer-hearted Death Eaters all puked as well after their first time – Severus, Wormtail, Draco, and I believe Lucius might've too…. he didn't look well, at least. Fighting a war between the Dark Arts and what remains of their conscience… Whereas the Lestranges, Fenrir, and MacNair never even flinched their first time… they've been consumed by the Dark Arts, they embrace it."

"And yourself?" Hermione said, as if afraid of the answer.

"Me? I've fought all my life to control the Dark Arts, rather than being consumed by it. Although its grip has faded over the past year…" he admitted.

Hermione stared at him. "Faded?"

"Yes, faded… I suspect it may be due to having my soul whole again. All the bits finding each other in the netherworld and becoming one again when you brought me back. Or the blood transfusion of your magic. Or our conjoined souls. I'm not entirely sure… a lot has happened in the past year."

"I always thought the Dark Arts simply referred to a specific class of forbidden magic," Hermione said finally. "You speak of it as of having a mind of its own."

"You are correct. I call it the Dark Arts but I should be more specific – it's the feeling behind casting them. The intoxicating rush you felt… it can be very addictive. The first time is always the hardest, especially for those with a conscience or a healthy fear of Azkaban. But each time it gets easier. Eventually, you start aching for the rush again… hence the reason I went out hunting."

Hermione winced. "Were you successful?" she asked. "Did you bring the carcasses back?"

"Yes, the Malfoy elves are carving up the carcasses. Some venison, duck, goose, and rabbit. I thought you'd be upset with me hunting… think of all the poor little innocent animals," he said a feral grin.

"My grandfather used to go hunting, and I figured it's better than another raid or battle. But if there's any meat left I'm donating it to a soup kitchen," she said.

"Fair enough," he said.

…

The following night and just before 7 they set out down the street, Hermione in a form-fitting violet robe with a deep V-neck and lace, Voldemort in a black robe with silver detailing, Rose in her onesie footed pajamas. Voldemort carried her in his arms. She was watching the white peacocks in the front lawn with wide eyes.

"Awww she is adorable!" Narcissa cooed, once they were inside. Rose kicked her little feet and tried to grab a lock of Narcissa's blond hair. "Look at those sapphire blue eyes! Can I hold her?" Voldemort passed her to Narcissa. Lucius and the Snapes came over.

"She has the Tom Riddle looks," Lucius murmured, looking down at Rose. Rose grabbed one of his long fingers and giggled.

"She's cute!" Tonks said.

Once the elves came out with glasses of wine and trays of raw oysters, caviar, and tuna tartare to start and passed them around, Voldemort, Hermione, and Rose were left to themselves as the Malfoys and Snapes gathered around the hor d'oeuvres.

"Does he seem different to you?" Lucius muttered in a low voice, after daintily eating a cracker topped with caviar. Snape followed Lucius's gaze and saw Voldemort cradling Rose in one arm, a rare expression of tenderness in his cold red eyes. His spidery fingers idly caressed her dark curls before he draped his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"Reminds me of you with Draco when he was a baby," Snape observed. "Although it does seem… peculiar for him to show any affection towards another being," he said, choosing his words carefully.

"Odd, isn't it?" Lucius drawled.

Voldemort sensed their gaze and turned towards them, an inquiring expression in his cold eyes.

"My lord, we were just wondering if you felt different after the blood transfusion?" Lucius asked.

"I'm not discussing my _feelings_ with you," Voldemort hissed, and turned back to Rose.

"Typical," Snape said dryly.

Once Rose got passed around and started rubbing her eyes, Hermione pulled the crib out of her pocket and put Rose to bed beside her.

"We have some bedrooms upstairs you can put her in. I can have the house elves notify you if she wakes up," Lucius said.

Hermione shook her head. "I still haven't forgotten the last couple times I was here," she said, and cast a couple charms to make it appear dark and quiet for Rose.

"Last time I honestly forgot Bella was here… she and Rodolphus were fighting so she had been staying with us here and there. Hadn't seen her in a few days so I thought she had left. And the first time, you were on the opposite side of the war! Orders were if Potter was spotted, capture him and anyone he's with, notify the Dark Lord, and try to get information."

"She doesn't trust you," Narcissa said.

"Clearly. And yet she trusts the Dark Lord," Lucius said.

"I feel like I don't belong here," Hermione muttered, eyeing the stately Malfoy dining room, the Malfoys, Snape, and Voldemort beside her, all seated at the dining table.

"I can take you down to the dungeons again if you prefer," Lucius said wryly, his lips curved in a smile.

"Once was good," Hermione said dryly.

The elves came out with a feast for dinner – raw oysters and caviar to start, venison, duck, and quail from the hunt, scalloped potatoes, lemon asparagus, fine goblin wine, breads and cheeses, and more.

"All that food Molly brought over the other day, the lasagna Ginny made, now this… I'm going to get fat if our friends keep feeding us," Voldemort murmured to Hermione. She giggled.

Halfway into dinner, Narcissa turned to Lucius. "What's wrong, dear?" He was frowning off into the distance.

"It's odd… I was supposed to meet Rodolphus for a pint last night but he never showed up. Unlike him. And then I stopped by his house to see if he was wallowing in self-pity again and his elf said he left for Knockturn Alley and never came back. Have you heard anything Tonks? Arrests, maybe?"

"I can check the records when I go back to the Ministry tomorrow," she said. "Haven't heard anything though."

Hermione had slowly lowered the bite of food back down to her plate. Her heart was pounding and her hands felt clammy and started trembling. She hid them on her lap. She saw Severus watching her curiously, and she quickly turned away. Voldemort rested a hand on her arm.

"I wonder what happened to him," Lucius said, frowning. "He can take of himself but I feel like something's wrong."

"He's dead," Hermione said quickly, her throat too tight to say more.

"What? Who killed him?" Lucius said, eyebrows drawn together.

"I did," Hermione said, glancing nervously at Tonks.

"You...?" Lucius drawled, with a raised eyebrow.

"Ran into him in Diagon Alley. He was about to rape and kill me, and decided to torture and kill Rose instead. He put the Cruciatrius on her… so I killed him."

Lucius stared at her. "I once said you weren't much of a fighter next to Rodolphus… I take that back," he said finally. "I didn't think you had it in you," he added.

"So… am I going to Azkaban then?" Hermione said, nervously.

"No one goes to Azkaban for self-defense. Or defense of their immediate family," Tonks said. "Courts are so backlogged with cases I doubt you'd even see the inside of a courtroom."

"Did you vomit afterwards?" Snape said, staring intently at her behind curtains of dark hair.

"I did," Hermione said.

"So did I, after my first time. Did you, Lucius?" he asked.

"No," he said and idly tucked a stray blonde hair behind his ear. "Felt ill, however. And you, my Lord?"

"Didn't even flinch," Voldemort said in a cold voice.

"I like the part where everyone openly confesses to at least one murder in front of a known Auror," Narcissa said.

"I just came off a 36 hour shift at Azkaban and have to go back into the office again tomorrow morning. I don't fancy any more paperwork or court cases than I already have. Voldemort in particular would mean months of going without sleep, what with the extra workload. Any way, Lucius and Sev already served time…. I'll just assume they've learned their lesson and have been perfect little angels ever since."

Voldemort and Lucius snorted.

Lucius leaned back in his chair and swirled the wine in his glass. "Wow…so you two finished off the Lestranges. Planning to off any more Death Eaters?"

Voldemort's red eyes glinted in the candlelight. "Just those who threaten myself or my family."

"Don't harm my wife or child, I won't touch yours," Lucius said.

Voldemort inclined his head in agreement. "I can't imagine any of my _faithful_ Death Eaters would even try…"

Lucius leaned in close. "Don't be so sure," he said. "I haven't heard any direct threats, but many of them are, frankly, angry."

"Angry?" Voldemort said. "I thought they would be relieved the war was over..."

"May I be forthright, my lord?" Lucius asked.

"I am no longer your lord, Lucius. But you may."

"You spent decades preaching of a grand vision of purebloods claiming their rightful place as the elite of society, followed by halfbloods, and mud-muggleborns and muggle-lovers as the bottom rung of society, closely watched over as a potential threat, yet serving the purebloods and halfbloods. Friendships and relationships between muggleborns or muggles and half and purebloods were forbidden. Visions of taking over the Ministry. We supported you and many of us sacrificed and risked everything for the Cause. Donated hard-earned money. Spent years in Azakaban. Risked our lives and freedom. It seemed we were finally on the cusp of it." He paused and finished his wine and set the glass down. Hermione was frowning, hands clenched into fists under the table.

"And then the prophecy about you and her came out. We all thought you would kill her on the spot, just like so many others. But you let her live. A muggleborn girl on the opposite side, a threat to your vision… I think in the end we assumed you wanted an heir in case your immortality experiments failed. And so we let it go. Muggleborn she was, but an heir that could rival Merlin... small price to pay. Bella threatened the life of your unborn heir so we didn't think much of you killing her. But then you burned the dream, the vision, without any explanation. We just woke up to the mark fading from our arms in the middle of the night. There has been much speculation… that you're an imposter and not our true Lord, that she slipped you a love potion or enchanted or blackmailed you, trying to sleep her way to the top…I mean, the alternative is you gave up your whole vision and life's work for a muggleborn…" Hermione winced.

"Pussy power," Tonks muttered into her glass. Voldemort's lipless mouth curled in a sneer, and his hand curled around his wand before he thought better of it.

"So crude, Tonks. But yes, essentially," Lucius said, after a long pause.

"They don't think I tried? Tried to forget her, I knew it was all wrong from the beginning…. But I couldn't get her out of my head, eventually I even stopped caring about her muggleborn status. The war wasn't going anywhere… stalemate after stalemate, resistance was rising against us, I thought a draw would be better than flat-out losing. I have other plans to pursue in any case. I don't owe them any explanation," Voldemort said coldly.

"All I'm saying, is doesn't be surprised if some former followers show up at your door. Fenrir died prematurely, like most werewolves, but the Carrows and the Notts or McNair are less than pleased," Lucius said warily.

Voldemort nodded slowly.

"I'm scared to ask, but what does the Order say about me?" Hermione asked.

"That you've been slipped a love potion or Imperiused, or are too scared to leave him and being held against your will. Or that you are also an imposter. The general agreement seems to be that you're playing with fire and will get burned. It's… almost as if neither side can accept the possibility that both of you just might love each other. Can't imagine why," Tonks said dryly. "Hey, Sev, you told me once when I confessed to fancying a Death Eater that I was playing with fire. What is Hermione playing with?"

"A bloody inferno," he said flatly. Voldemort snorted.

"So, Severus, tell me about this potion device of yours… I heard rumors about it," Narcissa said.

"It was Hermione's idea – she borrowed the muggle idea of putting medicine in a capsule and applied it to potions. Much more palatable, travels better, lasts longer… convenient that the Ministry patent office doesn't cross-check with the muggle patent office."

"Really, using a muggle idea," Lucius scoffed.

"Profitting off the muggles. The invention has made me a lot of money. Here's a Pain-Killing potion. Take 3 next time your back or knee acts up… it'll last 24 hours." He pulled a corked vial of pills out of his robes and handed it to Lucius. Lucius held it up the to the light and raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Muggles," he sneered.

"I'd have been a year-old rotting corpse in Central America if Hermione hadn't pressed on my heart to simulate a heartbeat and breathed air into my lungs. That's a muggle technique. In all my studies of old magic, or dark magic, I have never come across a way to restart the heart once it's stopped," Voldemort said.

Lucius stared at him like he grew a second head.

"Our plumbing, your cane, your reading glasses… those are all muggle inventions, dear," Narcissa offered.

Lucius stared at her. "Et tu, _wife_?"

"You're still better than them, dear. But fact is, there's billions of them. Statistically speaking, a few are bound to come up with something useful."

….

Later that night, they were both reading in bed by the crackling firelight.

Voldemort set his book down ( _Medieval Magicke)_. "I'm going back on my word. It was short-sighted of me to promise not to harm anyone. I've made a lot of enemies… and if my own Death Eaters are angry with me and disrespect me, I wouldn't be surprised if they seek me out. Or you."

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Using deadly force in self-defense, or in defense of one's immediate family, is perfectly legal in the Ministry's eyes. It's in the Wizengamot Charter of Rights. You, yourself exercised that particular right just yesterday," he pointed out.

Hermione's lip thinned but she said nothing. She went back to her book ( _Medical Advancements of the 21_ _st_ _Century)_ , but he noticed her eyes weren't moving across the page. After a few minutes she set the book down.

"How many did you…?" she asked, and trailed off.

"How many did I what? Sleep with or kill?" he asked slowly.

"Now that you mention it, both," she said.

"A lot," Voldemort offered. "Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to."

"How many?"

"You're not going to like the number… for either. They're about the same actually, oddly enough. Odd coincidence."

"10?"

He laughed. "10? I'm insulted. I was handsome back in the day, witches practically threw themselves at me. And I didn't get to be so feared people didn't dare speak my name for nothing."

"20?"

He laughed again. He gestured with his hand. "More."

"50?"

"Higher," he said, with a toothy grin.

"100?"

"Higher."

"150?" Hermione said with wide eyes.

"Right around that, yes. Killed or gave the orders to kill for 148. Slept with 152 witches including you."

Hermione stared at him. Just then, Rose started crying for a feeding. Hermione got up to leave and turned back to Voldemort. "There's something wrong with you," she said firmly.

He smirked. His red eyes glinted. "I know."

She left to breastfeed Rose. He didn't see her the rest of the night.

….

A few months went by, and Severus and Tonks stopped by for a visit. Tonks was clutching a stack of paperwork, and didn't look at all like her usual bouncy self.

"I have bad news, Tom," she said, once they were seated in the living room. "The new minister is rather zealous about stopping crime, especially now that the war's over. All known and suspected members of both sides and even the aurors are being reviewed for possible trial and they're starting with you."

"You're arresting me?" Voldemort said slowly.

"Not me. I came off record to give you a warning. But aurors will show up to arrest you and take you in for questioning. If they charge you with a crime, you'll be sent to Azkaban or if you make bail, sent home on house arrest to await your trial date before the Wizengamot. They have a lot of evidence against you, I'm afraid. Eyewitnesses, different artifacts, and whatnot. And they'll probably come down harsh on you because it'll set the precedent," Tonks said.

Voldemort turned to Hermione. "We can take permanent polyjuice again and go into hiding with Rose… flee the country." She nodded.

"You can try, but the Department of Mysteries has finally figured out how to track someone's magical signature," Tonks said. "Unless you take the Squib Potion you'll always be on the run."

"We'd have to live as muggles but that's fine," Hermione said. "I have a muggle doctorate degree, I could support us…"

"No," Voldemort said flatly. "I'm not living as a bloody muggle," he said in a tone that indicated there was no room for discussion. Hermione pursed her lips but said nothing.

"You have other options as per the Wizengamot Charter of Rights," Tonks said. "Plead insanity, although that would mostly likely entail living at St. Mungos. Or you could plead self-defense for some of your victims – those on the other side of the war, especially if they raised a wand against you. James Potter or Mad-Eye Moody, for instance. Alternatively, you could offer the names and crimes of your Death Eaters in exchange for a lesser sentence. Or divulge the weakness in the Azkaban fortress. Make a plea deal."

"What's in that paperwork?" Voldemort asked. "What am I being charged with?" Tonks handed it to him. He flipped through it. Hermione looked over his shoulder.

"There's no charges against killing muggles in there," Hermione observed, frowning. She looked up at Tonks.

"The ministry has always been a little short-sighted when it comes to muggles. It's a gray area…unless a muggle police officer were to charge him, it's unlikely he'd be tried for it," she said.

"And all the Dark Arts spells and experiments… that's not here," Voldemort said, and glanced at Tonks.

"The Ministry can track the location of a spell in the case of a minor, but that's it. Unless someone witnessed it and told the Ministry, they have no record of it. And frankly, the Ministry doesn't care about what you do to yourself. There's some charges of using Dark Arts such as the Unforgivables against Aurors, members of the Order, the Ministry, or the general population, but as of now, your Death Eaters haven't confessed anything about you. No doubt they know you have dirt on them as well."

He nodded.

"The Ministry suspects you've done more than what's here, but without a shred of evidence they can't charge you for additional crimes. Which is why they're bringing you in for questioning before the trial. They're expecting you to fight. Or flee."

"What do you suggest?" Voldemort asked.

"Go willingly – it'll put them off guard. Dozens of Aurors will be called in to arrest you. They can add an additional charge of resisting arrest otherwise and honestly it makes you look guilty. Don't say a word unless it's, 'I want a lawyer.' Once you get to the Ministry, they'll seat you in a room for questioning. Request a lawyer but don't say anything else. Anything you've done that's not in this stack of paperwork, keep it to yourself. That stack is a list of charges for crimes they know about."

"Thank you, Tonks," Voldemort said finally. "When are they coming?"

"I don't know. I'm not privy to that information," she said, and folded her hands in her lap.


	4. Arrest

Chapter Four – Arrest

Late one night as Voldemort and Hermione played a game of Wizard's Chess by the roaring fireplace, the fires crackled green and Lucius's pale face popped into view, the edges of his long blond hair dancing in the flames. Hermione jumped. Voldemort turned towards the fire, irritation at the interruption written across his face.

"My Lord?" Lucius called.

Voldemort grunted. "It better be urgent, Lucius, to be calling at this hour. And as I said before, you may call me Tom. You are no longer my servant."

Lucius bowed his head. "My apologies, Tom. It is urgent. May I speak to you privately?" he said, with an askance glance at Hermione. Voldemort turned to her and raised an eyebrow. She pursed her lips together but left the room. She heard only hushed voices through the door – Lucius sounded worried about something. Voldemort swept out the door a few minutes later. He didn't look surprised at all to see Hermione waiting outside the door.

"There's something I need to… take care of," he said, by way of explanation. "Get some rest – it's getting late." He swiveled on his heel and left.

Hermione stared after him, and glanced at the fire to find Lucius gone. _I thought we agreed not to keep secrets from each other any longer? 'Take care of' – planning to kill someone else, are we? I'm definitely having a word with him when he returns._ She couldn't suppress a yawn and realized she should go to bed.

…

Alecto and Amycus Carrow were joined by Theodore Nott Sr., Walden McNair, Thorfinn Rowle, Crabbe Sr, Gregory Goyle, Goyle Sr., Draco Malfoy, and a few other Death Eaters in their home. A couple nearly empty bottles of Firewhiskey sat on the fireplace mantle, surrounded by empty goblets.

"That mudblood-loving traitor! Bloody hypocrite! Followed him for years we did, and for what?!" Alecto yelled. "Went to Azkaban for what?"

"All for nothing!" Amycus screeched.

"Years in Azkaban! I never denounced him! Believed in him until the end! And then he discarded us like rubbish!" Goyle grunted.

"They killed the Lestranges!" McNair added.

"On to Riddle Manor – we'll kill the whole lot! The traitor, the mudblood whore, and their bastard daughter too! Death to their family!" Rowle yelled.

The crowd roared and pounded goblets. The cheering ended suddenly when a crack pierced the air. Voldemort apparated, wand drawn, teeth bared in a snarl. "You dare threaten my family?" he hissed in a cold voice.

"The mudblood, the bastard child, and _you…_ " Rowle snarled, and spat on the ground. Voldemort sneered and lifted him by the neck. He grabbed Rowle's head and twisted it in the opposite direction before throwing him aside. He snapped his head around to find every wand pointed at him.

…

Hermione brushed out her hair, slipped her nightgown on after brushing her teeth but couldn't shake the gut feeling that something was wrong. Her stomach was a tight knot. She climbed into bed and grabbed a book, clutching her wand in hand. After re-reading the same paragraph several times and not gleaming anything, she gave up and shut the book. She checked the wards, and glanced at Rose through an enchanted mirror on her bedside. She was sound asleep in her crib. The crackling fire in the bedroom glowed green and she jumped.

"Miss Granger?" Lucius called out. She grabbed the robe off the hook by the bed and knelt by the fireplace, wand held tight in her hand.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?" she asked.

"No one answered the floo in the living room so I thought you may have retired to bed. He left, didn't he?" he asked.

Hermione nodded.

"I think… it would be best if I remain here until he returns. Safest. I should call the Snapes over as well." He stepped through the fireplace without an invitation and daintly brushed off his robes.

"Would you mind telling me what's going on!?" Hermione said heatedly, and glanced at Rose to check that she was still sleeping.

He stared down his aquiline nose at her. "Do you remember me telling you that many of the Death Eaters are not happy with their former Master's decisions as of late?" She nodded slowly. "There's been a mutiny." She swallowed. "I came to warn Tom, but I suspect some may come here. He can hold his own but you'll need backup. There's a lot of them. At least a dozen. Most of the remaining inner circle."

Hermione swallowed. She had a knot in her throat. "A dozen?" she echoed.

"Probably less – Tom will have taken care of some of them."

"Of course," Hermione said frowning.

Lucius turned to the fire, threw in a handful of floo powder from the vase on the mantle, and put his head in the fire. "Severus! Tonks!" Seconds later, he withdrew his head and Tonks stumbled out of the fire. Moments later, Snape gracefully stepped out.

Tonks, Snape, and Lucius immediately set out strengthening the wards while Hermione cast several protective charms and wards around Rose.

Suddenly, they heard the crackling of wood from downstairs and smelled the stench of smoking wood and upholstery. Snape and Hermione swore. The lot ran down the stairs, wands drawn, to find the Carrows and Draco setting fire to the house. Alecto Carrow gleefully cast the Dark Mark over the house. Rowle, Avery, and McNair were wearing down the wards with Anti-Ward curses. McNair shouted as the last ward dissolved and they stormed into the house only to be met by the wands of of Tonks, Snape, Hermione, and Lucius.

"Draco!" Lucius shouted.

Draco whirled on the spot. "Father…?" Lucius cast _Petrificus Totalis_ on his son and snapped his fingers.

A house-elf appeared with a _crack!,_ bowing deeply, her nose almost touching her feet. "Yes, master?" the elf squeaked.

"Binky! Take Draco to the Manor and have him await my return!"

"To the dungeons, master?" Binky squeaked.

Lucius sputtered. "No! No, the…the parlor!" Binky bowed deeply and took Draco's petrified hand before disapparating with him.

Tonks was dueling McNair and Rowle, Snape was dueling Avery, Hermione was dueling Amycus, when she realized Alecto was missing. Her blood ran cold. An alarm bell sounded in her mind. "Malfoy, take Amycus!" she yelled, and dashed up the stairs.

Alecto was in the nursery, holding a crying Rose by the neck and pointing a wand at her, making angry red welts appear across her skin. The welts faded and disappeared as fast as Rose could work her magic, much to Alecto's frustration.

Face red with anger, Hermione shouted out.

"Nice of you to join us, mudblood. We were just playing, weren't we, Rose?" Alecto sneered, and pointing the wand at Rose's throat, whispered "Crucio!"

Hermione didn't waste a beat – livid and angry, blood pounding through her veins, she summoned Rose and cast "Avada Kedavra," watching Alecto crumple to the floor. She clutched a crying Rose tight to her chest and conjured a baby carrier, recasting protective charms around her. Her knees felt weak. Her stomach felt sick. _That's twice now Rose has been crucioed. Twice now I've committed murder. Murderer. Pull yourself together! It's not over yet!_ She ran downstairs, clutching her wand, to find Voldemort had returned and obliterated the last standing enemy – McNair crumpled under the Killing curse just as she arrived downstairs. _A victory, I suppose, but it doesn't feel like one._ The house was a mess. Dead bodies everywhere. Charred and blackened remains were all that was left of one wing of the house, the dining room and kitchen open to the night. Furniture overturned. Blood stains on the carpet and upholstery. Lucius, Snape, Tonks, and Voldemort stood in the midst, robes torn, Severus was limping and stiffly sat onto a charred armchair, Lucius and Tonks were bleeding, and Voldemort's robes had scorch marks.

"Where's Alecto?" Snape asked.

"Dead," Hermione said. "Upstairs in the nursery." She clutched her stomach. _I feel nauseous…ill._

"And the rest of the turncoats?" Lucius asked.

"Dead," Voldemort said. His red eyes roamed around the room. "Where's Draco?"

"I sent him with a house-elf to my manor. I'll deal with him later," Lucius said stiffly.

…

Tonks had taken the bodies to the Ministry's morgue and written up reports for cause of death. Bloodstains were cleaned, robes washed, charred walls and possessions repaired, Dark Mark removed from the sky. The next few weeks passed in quiet. Hermione moved the crib to their bedroom.

All was not well, however, when on a crisp afternoon one September, Aurors came pounding at the door.

"Don't fight them!" Hermione hissed. "You'll make it worse!"

Voldemort ignored her and stepped outside anyway. Hermione groaned but nonetheless, found herself standing back-to-back with him, Rose in her carrier, the family encircled by dozens - perhaps a hundred Aurors. She recognized a few of them – Moody, who sneered at her, and muttered something to Kingsley. Tonks who looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here. And Harry facing Voldemort once again, his expression unreadable.

Together, Hermione and Voldemort cast a shield charm over themselves and Rose, and raised their wands. "Don't kill…or use any Dark Arts," Hermione whispered in his ear. "You'll only add on more charges."

"Don't tell me what to do, witch!" he snarled, and unleashed a fury of spells on the Aurors. The Aurors fought to take down their shield. Hermione stuck to harmless spells, such as the Disarming charm, Petrifying charm, Body Bind, and others that would decrease the number of opponents. Voldemort cast nasty hexes and curses – a slashing rope of fire, a hex to make one's intestines unravel, a hex to make one bleed out of every orifice… but Hermione noted, no Unforgivables. Nothing deadly.

The Aurors broke through the shield charm and spells came at them from every direction. Rose raised her hands and giggled as she formed a new shield charm, stronger and thicker than the one before. She clapped and giggled as spells hit the shield and rebounded. Eventually even that shield faded and without a word, Hermione grabbed Voldemort's arm and disapparated them.

He looked around. Gray skyscrapers stretched to the sky. Morning, by the look of it. Tacky neon lights advertised all kinds of muggle businesses, muggle shows, and muggle products. Muggles in their business attire hustled about the filthy sidewalks. Taxis, cars, trucks, and buses packed the dirty streets. A cacophony of horns, screeching brakes, voices, and footsteps filled the air. _New York…. Times Square, I think? Filthy. Dirty. Swarming with muggles. Not a tree in sight. Although, admittedly, it would be easy to get lost among the crowd…_ He smiled. With a wave of his wand, he transfigured their clothing into muggle wear, and cast a Glamour charm on their faces. _A perfect American muggle family._

She cast a modified Notice-Me-Not charm on them. The muggles would never remember they were there. _Although, so many of them are absorbed in their phones and newspapers I doubt they would notice anything._

… _._

Harry swore. _Thirty of us left… the rest all disarmed and without wands, unconscious, petrified, needing medical attention._ "You – Smithings – track his magical signature. Where are they?"

Smithings' leathery face was scrunched tight. He rubbed his wiry beard. "In a city. Across the pond…. in New York…." He furiously rubbed his temples. _Doing a tracking from thousands of miles away…My head hurts._ "Times Square. They're in Times Square."

Harry swore again. "Muggle garb everyone!" After a quick check that everyone remaining had transfigured clothing to his satisfaction, he added. "Let's go! You – Hastings! Apparate to St Mungos and bring Healers for the rest!"

They disapparated to Times Square. Many of them looked around in wonder or surprise. "Lead the way, Smithings!" Harry yelled.

Smithings scrunched his face again and pointed east. "That way," he grunted.

….

"They're following us," Voldemort said. "I can sense it."

Hermione ran down a side street and led them to the subway. "We'll take the tube!" she said, and ran down the steps. She quickly scanned the map as Voldemort read over her shoulder.

"What the hell?" he said. "The trains are listed by color, number, letter…. that's worse than the London tube."

"Exactly," she said, already buying a couple tickets from the machine with conjured coins. She thrust his in his hand, and ran down the steps to the Red 2 train, headed North.

…

"They're taking the tube!" Smithings yelled. Harry and the rest followed him down the stairs. "Which train?" Harry asked, eyeing the map. "What the hell?" he said. "The trains are listed by color, number, letter…. that's worse than the London tube."

Smithings rubbed his temples. "They're headed North…. near 86th street." Harry conjured tickets and and passed them out, showing some of the Aurors how to use the turnstile.

"Take the Red 1 train, North!" Harry yelled and they shuffled on board. The pureblooded Aurors eyes widened as the train lurched and grasped blindly at the handrails, seatbacks, walls, almost falling over. Some of them received dirty looks from the New Yorkers – the rest just pointedly ignored them.

A few stops later, Smithings said, "Wait. They're passing 135th street," and checked the map.

Harry cursed. "We're switching trains at 96th street, got it?"

…

"What's your plan?" Voldemort asked. "They're behind, but they're still following us."

"Trying to lose them. Let's switch to the green 4 train at the next stop, headed South." He nodded and they got off when the doors opened, Voldemort pushing past some tourists.

…

"They're passing 138th street… they must be on the green line now," Smithings mused.

"This is pointless," Harry said. "They'll have to come above ground eventually. Too many muggles to apparate here…everyone get off at the next station, we're leaving the Tube!" Some Aurors looked rather green in the face and voiced their relief.

….

"This is pointless," Voldemort said. He glanced to make sure the muggles were absorbed in their phones and newspapers and apparated the three of them.

Hermione shivered as a blast of biting cold air hit them, freezing to her bones. It was so cold it felt like needles piercing her skin. Rose cried out. She cast a warming spell on the three of them and conjured a heavy fur jacket for her and Rose. She looked around. It was dark and the moon was out. There were a few buildings, all covered by a blanket of snow. "Where are we?" she asked, her breath coming out as a little cloud.

"A remote village in Oymyakonsky Ulus of the Sakha Republic… northern Russia," Voldemort added, seeing the blank look on her face.

"Why'd you bring us here? There must be 500 villagers, tops, they'll notice some newcomers for sure," Hermione said.

"No they won't," Voldemort said, and cast a Muggle Repellant charm. "It's perfect… so remote it'll be next to impossible for them to track us."

Rose woke up from her nap in the carrier and started fussing.

"Let's stop somewhere… she's hungry again," Hermione said. "I'm hungry too." Voldemort nodded.

….

Smithings sank down on a milk crate in the alley they gathered in, the lot of them hidden from view by a dumpster and Muggle Repellant charm. He rubbed his temples and wiped his brow. "I've lost them," he said, his face creased with worry and concentration.

"Try to think," Harry said. "Anything at all? Any images, feelings, sounds?"

Smithings shook his head and wearily rubbed his forehead. "Let's go back to the Ministry… I can focus better in the meditation chamber."

"Let's apparate back, take a lunchbreak, and we'll try again," Harry said.

Two hours later found Smithings lying in a tub of saltwater in a dark, soundproof room, searching out for Voldemort's magical signature. _A dark aura of magic… if only I could sense it…._ He closed his eyes. _It's cold. Freezing cold. Windy. I see….snow. A small village. It's dark already. I hear… Russian? Yes, Russian._ He searched for a sign, any sign. A map. He sat up straight and summoned his robe.

He left the chambers and called out for Harry, only to find him waiting just outside, reading the _Prophet._ "I found them! They're in Northern Russia… in a remote village. It's freezing cold, we'll need our winter robes. Fur, if you have it."

Harry nodded and summoned the rest of the Aurors. He hesitated a moment, and an odd distant expression crossed his face.

"What is it, Potter?" Mad Eye Moody grunted.

"Just thinking… nearly twenty years ago Hermione and I were on the run from Voldemort, now she and Voldemort are on the run from me…." Harry faltered.

"Don't get your knickers in a bunch," Moody grunted. "We have a job to do."

Harry nodded and on three they apparated.

….

Everything was closed – the local time was 4 in the morning. They were warming up in a local tavern they had to break into, having just finished a hearty stew Hermione had prepared from ingredients in the back. Voldemort was nursing a coffee and Hermione, a hot chocolate. Rose had fallen asleep again. It was an oddly content moment, Hermione reflected, and yet, _how did I get here? In the middle of nowhere in Russia, I could be tried for harboring and assisting a dangerous fugitive, on the run from Aurors, from Harry… I remember when Harry and I were on the run from Voldemort… odd._

Voldemort froze. "They found us. I can sense it."

"Here?" Hermione asked. "Can't be."

"I can sense Potter's magic anywhere… years of sharing a mind connection." He stood up. "Let's go." Hermione hesitated, warm and content with her hot chocolate, Rose curled up asleep in her lap. "Let's go!" Voldemort barked, and grabbed her arm and Rose. Hermione glanced out the frosted window and saw red Auror robes materializing in the darkness.

"They're here!" she shrieked. She quickly stuffed a sleeping Rose into the baby carrier and followed Voldemort out through the backdoor in the kitchen.

"There they are!" called out a distinct baritone – Kingsley. Hermione and Voldemort ran through the sleeping town, only to find red Auror robes at every corner.

"This is pointless!" Voldemort said and clutched Hermione's arm in side-along apparation. They appeared on a deserted country desert road, baked by the sun. Only a few signs in Spanish dotted the road.

"Mexico?" Hermione asked.

"We're crossing into Guatemala," he said.

She flashed a knowing smile. "Ah, because no one can apparate in or out of the country. Why didn't I think of that?"

He smirked. "We're flying by dark magic." Before she could protest, he grabbed her hand and they were flying above the clouds, like hanggliders without a glider, leaving only a dark streak in their wake.

"I need to stop by my old house," Hermione said suddenly, avoiding eye contact.

"Now?" he said, but without a word, they swooped down to her old porch. She looked around. _It appears to be long been uninhabited. Still…_ she cast a muggle repellant charm and ran down to the basement, through a hidden door. _My lab… untouched, just the way I left it._ She quickly pulled ingredients off the shelves, a cauldron, scale, knife, and stirring rod. Quickly and methodically, she set the water to boil in the cauldron, cut up the Mandrake leaves, ground up the flobberworm, shredded the lacewing flies, added essence of wormwood, and set the potion to simmer.

"What are you brewing?" Voldemort asked, staring curiously at the flurry of activity.

"Just finished," she said, evading the question. She ladled the potion into a conjured goblet. "Here," she said. "Drink." He raised an eyebrow. "It'll prevent them from finding your magical signature," she said, avoiding eye contact. Her feet shuffled nervously. He sniffed it and held it up to the light.

"Why so nervous then?" he asked. He frowned. "It's the Squib Potion, isn't it?" he said, his voice rising. He threw it on the ground. "You _treacherous little_ …. you seek to take away my magic, try to trick me…?" he hissed dangerously. The air cracked with his magic. He advanced towards her, nostrils flaring, red eyes narrowed. Hermione took a step back.

"It's the only way!" she said furiously, tears in her eyes. "They're tracking your magic! They'll always be a couple hours behind at most! I knew you wouldn't take it…. It's live as a muggle and have your freedom, or have your blasted magic and rot in Azkaban!"

" _I'd rather_ _die_ than be a muggle!" Voldemort yelled coldly. He ran upstairs and out the door.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked.

"Turning myself in," he sneered. "They're here."

Hermione checked Rose was safe in the carrier (now staring at them wide-eyed and squirming to get down) and raced after him. Sure enough, there was a mob of Aurors surrounding them… at least seventy.

Voldemort glided calmly towards Harry, hands in the air. "I surrender," he murmured, and handed Harry his wand. Harry's jaw was agape. Hermione stared crestfallen from the doorstoop.

"Cuff him Potter!" Moody growled. Harry grabbed the enchanted restraints from his robes, and fastened Voldemort's hands behind his back. They turned to go.

"I love you!" Hermione yelled.

Voldemort turned. "Bullocks," he spat. "I trusted you. You betrayed me," he sneered coldly.

"I was only trying to protect you!" she shouted.

"I don't need your protection," he spat, and turned back on his heel. Hermione sank on the doorstoop.

"On three," Harry said, nodding at the Aurors. "The Guatemalan ministry only relaxed the Apparation ban for us for a short time."

"Wait," Hermione said glumly, and pulled a handful of wands out of her robes - about thirty in all. All the wands from the Aurors she had disarmed when they first showed up. Tonks, one of the Aurors closest to her, took them with a wink.

"Care for a trip back to England?" Tonks asked, offering her arm.


	5. Case

Apologies for the long hiatus between chapters. My second baby was born, and I didn't have much time to write between caring for a toddler and a baby. Hoping I can get Chapter Six out to you faster.

Chapter Five - Case

Tonks apparated Hermione and a fussing Rose back to the Riddle's doorstop. Hermione took Rose out of the carrier and let her crawl around.

"So…. did you two have a row or something?" Tonks asked slowly. "Never seen him like that towards you."

"I tried to get him to take the Squib potion, so he could be free. He didn't, er, take it too well," Hermione said glumly. "We could've lived as muggles, untraceable by the Ministry… I don't think he wants to be with me anymore."

Hermione shook her head, staring at her feet. "I shouldn't've done it." Tonks sat beside her.

"I just don't want him living the rest of his life in Azkaban," she said glumly. "I cocked up, Tonks. Made a mess of everything. Wish I could take back the last hour or so."

"Too bad the Tracker can see through a Fidelius charm," Tonks said, and sighed.

Hermione sighed. Rose kept crying out "daddy!" in in louder, more insistent tones. It took awhile to get her to fall asleep that night – she kept crying "Daddy? Daddy!"

That night she lay wide awake in bed, still in her spot, unable to sleep. _The bed's so big and cold. Too big. The house feels so big and empty now. I lived alone for years, what's wrong with me? I miss feeling his body heat, hearing him breathe… I hope he's okay._

Voldemort was seated at a steel table in a windowless concrete room in the Ministry, de-wanded, shackles on his feet and wrists. _Can't trust anyone._ _I thought I could trust her. Trying to rob me of my magic…probably working for the Order still._ He was broken out of his thoughts when the steel door slammed open. Potter strode in the room in full red Auror regalia, clutching a mug of what smelled like coffee. Beside him strode a bony witch with beady eyes and her gray hair pulled tightly into a bun. They sat across from him at the table.

"Mr. Tom Marvolo Riddle, I am Helen Swanson, the barrister assigned to your case and representing the Ministry," she said in a nasal voice. She produced from her robes a thick stack of parchment and placed it on the table. "Harry Potter is the arresting Auror assigned to the case and has been selected as Head Witness."

"Your charges," Potter said, "Are a laundry list from common theft to unauthorized use of the Dark Arts, waging war, and murder. Depending on the judge, you're facing either the Dementor's Kiss or a life sentence under maximum security, solitary confinement in Azkaban."

"However, the Ministry is investigating everyone involved in the War and looking to prosecute every remaining Death Eater," the witch added in a shrill voice. "The Ministry may see fit to reduce your sentence should you prove useful."

"You want information," Voldemort said slowly.

"Yes. Starting with your Inner Circle. Names." She conjured a parchment, quill, and inkpot and slid them across the table.

Voldemort stared into Potter's green eyes. Potter didn't break his gaze, but stared right back. _I remember him as a crying baby, as a scared boy hiding behind anger, escaping only by luck or others' help. When did he get the upper hand?_

After a few moments, Voldemort took the quill in his left hand, dipped it in ink, and put it to parchment.

 _Inner Circle_

 _Bellatrix Lestrange – dead._

 _Rodolphus Lestrange – dead._

 _Severus Snape_

 _Lucius Malfoy_

 _Augustus Avery – dead._

 _Theodore Nott Sr. – dead._

 _Walden McNair – dead._

 _Thorfinn Rowle – dead._

 _Alecto Carrow – dead._

 _Amycus Carrow – dead._

 _Vincent Crabbe Sr. – dead._

 _Gregory Goyle Sr. – dead._

 _Petter Pettigrew – dead._

He tossed it back to Helen, who read it over. "Dead, how? The Ministry needs details." She slid it back.

 _Inner Circle_

 _Bellatrix Lestrange – dead. Myself, Killing curse._

 _Rodolphus Lestrange – dead. Hermione Granger, Killing curse._

 _Severus Snape_

 _Lucius Malfoy_

 _Augustus Avery – dead. Severus Snape, Killing curse._

 _Theodore Nott Sr. – dead. Lucius Malfoy, Killing curse._

 _Walden McNair – dead. Myself, Killing curse._

 _Thorfinn Rowle – dead. Myself, broken neck._

 _Alecto Carrow – dead. Hermione Granger, Killing. curse._

 _Amycus Carrow – dead. Lucius Malfoy, Killing curse._

 _Vincent Crabbe Sr. – dead. Myself, broken neck._

 _Gregory Goyle Sr. – dead. Myself, Killing curse._

 _Peter Pettigrew – dead. Choked with silver hand. Asphyxiation._

"Killing off your own Death Eaters?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised.

"There was a mutiny. The Snapes and Lucius were kind enough to assist me."

"I see. What's this? Hermione killed Rodolphus and Alecto? She wouldn't…. no." Potter's steely cool demeanor fell as his voice broke at the end, and Voldemort could see the boy he knew. _Hiding behind a mask of cool indifference._ Potter cleared his throat and the mask slipped back into place.

"I'm given to understand that the maternal instinct to protect one's young is very strong. They were torturing our daughter," Voldemort drawled.

Harry wearily rubbed his forehead. Helen sniffed. "Anything else you'd care to divulge? The weakness in the Azkaban fortress? A list of all your Death Eaters, outside the Inner Circle?"

Voldemort grabbed the quill and resumed writing. "The fortress, no," he hissed. "But I can give you names."

After sliding back the parchment, Helen rolled it up and placed it in her robes. "I'll submit this for further review. Should you desire to hire legal counsel, you may notify one of the guards. Mr. Potter, take him to his cell. Good day, Mr. Riddle." She stood stiffly and walked out, her heels tapping on the concrete floor.

Before the door even closed, Harry quickly grabbed the chains around Voldemort's wrists and in a flash they were in Azkaban. The dementors descended at once, sensing fresh meat in their midst. _"Lily, take Harry and go! I'll hold him off…."_ resounded within Harry's head. His grip tightened on his wand.

Harry glanced at Voldemort and saw his expression had darkened as well. _I've lost my body, helpless, fighting every second to survive…. Meaner than the meanest ghost, weaker than a spirit…._ Voldemort's jaw set as he forced the Dementors out with Occlumency.

Harry pulled out his wand. _Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Ginny and I are getting married, she's walking down the aisle, flowers in her fiery hair…. Expecto Patronum!_ The stag patronus appeared and chased down the dementors.

"Still a stag?" Voldemort asked.

"Always a stag," Harry said stiffly.

They strode in stony silence down halls of prisoners, many of them huddled with their knees drawn to their chest and their head in their hands, or in the fetal position. The place was drafty, damp, and cold, with a smell of mildew. They passed a few dementors and a couple curious Aurors, until they reached a vacant cell at the end of the block. Harry turned sharply, and furtively glanced to check that no Aurors or other prisoners were in earshot.

"Off the record, I would have liked to left things the way we did at the hospital, and never seen you again. However the new Minister in his hard-on for cracking down on crime has personally assigned me to arrest you, and Helen saw fit to make me head witness due to our history. The minister is personally overseeing this case," Harry said.

"Would've thought this would be a dream come true for you," Voldemort said dryly.

"I hate being in court or pushing papers at a desk. I prefer doing things, fighting in a battle, flying… might take you up on your suggestion and play Quidditch for England. Make this my last case and quit," Harry said, a distant expression on his face. He turned sharply. "And this isn't some convoluted plot where I win the Quidditch World Cup but the snitch portkeys me to a graveyard?"

Voldemort smiled wryly. "It's only convoluted if it doesn't work. And no."

Harry nodded curtly and opened the door to the cell. Voldemort calmly walked in, and Harry shut the door, cast a series of locking spells, and vanished the handcuffs. He turned to walk away when Voldemort added, "Tell Helen I would like to hire legal counsel."

"Fine," Harry said. "Who?"

"Lucius Malfoy."

"Figures," Harry said, and strode away, his stag patronus galloping beside him.

Hermione tossed and turned that night, her thoughts on the case, on what would happen to them, whether he could forgive her. Not too long after she fell asleep, Rose woke her up with a cry. It was morning.

The days crawled by. Once Narcissa knocked on the door, but she ignored it until she left. Tonks and Snape invited her over for dinner. Of her old friends, not even an owl. Somehow she didn't feel welcome around the Weasleys or Harry anymore.

A week passed.

"Come to mock me, Stevens?" Voldemort said softly. He was sitting cross-legged, staring out the window, and meditating. Occlumency kept the Dementors from reaching his mind, and when that got tiring he meditated, which pushed away the bad memories and worked almost as well. As long as he didn't sleep… it was while asleep that the Dementors could affect him, and gave him nightmares. Losing his body and having to possess animals or Quirrell to survive, being bullied at the orphanage, his mother dying, his killing curse hitting Hermione, her comatose body in St. Mungos… he missed her.

An Auror had walked up to his cell, a graying wizard with a lanky build with a weathered face. He cleared his throat.

"Hardly. You're to meet with your legal counsel while on house arrest. The Ministry is giving you 8 hours a week to meet with your council. You are not to leave your house. You are not to perform magic. Aurors will chaperone you during your visits. You are not to harm them or anyone else, whether directly or indirectly. Should you not fulfill these requirements, your legal counsel privileges will be revoked, and the charges will be added to your record. Is that clear?"

Voldemort nodded. Stevens conjured the shackles around his wrists once more, and cast the spells to open the cell. He tugged on the chain around Voldemort's shackles.

"No patronus?" Voldemort asked, as a dementor swooped down on them. "You're the first Auror I've seen walking around without one."

Stevens grunted. "Don't need one if you can block them out. I see you're not huddled in the fetal position like the rest," he growled, gesturing at the last couple prisoners they walked by. "You must be using Occlumency as well."

Voldemort nodded curtly.

In silence, they walked down rows of cells and dementors, before Stevens side-apparated them once they reached the Apparation point.

They apparated to his house. It was midafternoon and almost November. The skies were gray, the air crisp and cool. Stevens rapped on the door. He was about to undo the wards when Hermione slowly opened the door.

"He is here for the next 8 hours on house arrest to meet with legal council. The aforenamed Lucius Malfoy has been summoned and is on his way. Aurors will be stationed at all exits to chaperone and prevent Mr. Riddle's exit from the premises. He is not to perform magic, down to the simplest _lumos_. The floo will be temporarily shut down, and no owls are to be sent. All incoming owls will be examined by an Auror first. Wards will be placed to prevent apparating or disapparating on the premises. Mr. Riddle is not to harm anyone, directly or indirectly. Failure to meet these requirements will revoke legal council privileges and ad more charges to the case," Stevens said, robotically. There were several pops as aurors apparated to guard the exits and cast wards. Lucius strolled down the street, cane in hand. "Ah, excellent, here comes Mr. Malfoy now. Mr. Riddle, it is 3:26 pm. I will return at precisely 11:26 pm tonight. Good day." With that, Stevens disapparated.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione said, and hesitantly put her arms around him. "I love you. I only wanted to protect you."

"Don't do it again," Voldemort said in a low, dangerous voice. "I never forget."

"What? No cruciatrius?" Lucius drawled. "I never got off that easy for my mistakes." Hermione winced at the unwelcome reminder of the past, but said nothing.

Voldemort smirked. "We don't have much time. Let's begin," he said, and gestured toward the dining table. He summoned several books off the shelves, parchment, quills, and the copy of his list of charges. He skimmed through the list. "Where's Rose?" he asked. "Don't trust me with the baby? Honestly, witch! I only tried to kill a baby once, and it wasn't even mine." Voldemort said.

Lucius snorted. Hermione repressed a laugh.

"She's taking a nap," Hermione said.

Hermione pulled some additional books off the shelves in their library and paged through a few Lucius brought over. It was silent, just the scratching of quill on parchment or paging through books, as the three of them tried to find anything that could help the case – statutes of limitation of crimes using the Dark Arts, the Ministry's self-defense law, allowing one to use deadly force when one feels oneself in mortal danger, and so on. The silence was broken only to ask for a case, parchment, or book.

"Odd," Lucius drawled. "Here I would've thought you'd be doing the research for Potter's side." Deep in thought and taking notes, it was a few moments before what Lucius had said sunk in. Her quill froze and Voldemort turned to look at her.

"We're not that close anymore," she mumbled, looking down at her notes.

"You're the last person I would've expected to switch sides," Lucius drawled.

"I'm not on your side!" Hermione hissed.

Lucius raised an arched eyebrow. "Aren't you?" he drawled. She looked up. Lucius's silk sleeves had inched up, the place where his Dark Mark had been facing her. She saw Lord Voldemort's pale face, slit-like nostrils, and glinting red eyes, looking intently at her. She looked down at the passage she was reading and her notes on Class I Dark Arts and the Killing curse.

She thought about how close she and Harry had been growing up, fighting the war, being a part of the Order, hitting Voldemort with her car, saving his life, buying him the Kevlar vest…. She shivered.

"No comment," she said brusquely.

"Well then," Voldemort said. "I wondered myself why a Gryffindor muggle-born friend of Potter's would abruptly switch to our side, but there's your answer, Lucius. Crystal clear."

"My views on humanity, equality, muggles, muggle-borns, house elves, halfbreeds, halfbloods, purebloods, and the status quo are much different than yours, and no way in Hell would I take a Dark Mark," Hermione hissed.

She sighed. "I'm helping you with the trial on the condition that there be no more of _these_ [she waved her hand at the pile of charges] in the future," she said. "You should go to Azkaban for eternity, receive the Dementor's Kiss, and lose your magic, your life, for your crimes. But in spite of everything, I love you. I don't want to lose you. And I don't want our daughter to grow up without her father." She hissed.

"You should've been sorted into Slytherin," Voldemort said finally. "Doing everything you can to fight the established rules and order to benefit your own motives..."

"I thought it was Gryffindors that went against reason and followed emotion," Hermione retorted.

"Slytherins do too – we're just more subtle about it," Lucius said dryly. "And we call it 'personal gain.'"

Voldemort snorted.

She turned back to her notes and started flipping through them. "Where's my notes on murder?" she said irritably. Wordlessly, Voldemort handed it over, exchanging a long look with Lucius. She flipped through it, and cross-referenced it with the specific law codes it was referring to. She slammed the book down. "I can't find anything differentiating between murder and manslaughter." Voldemort and Lucius stared at her blankly.

"In the muggle world, there's murder, manslaughter, and killing in self-defense or wartime."

"In the wizarding world, aside from self-defense, there are no other legal distinctions," Voldemort said. "Doesn't this go against the moral code of someone like you? I can tell you're uncomfortable..."

"I'm fine," she snapped. Rose woke up and started crying. Hermione slammed the book she was paging through on the table, and went to get her from her crib.

Rose excitedly cried out "Daddy!" and squirmed to get down. Hermione set her down and she crawled towards Voldemort, who picked her up, his lipless mouth curved in a smile. "Missed me?" he said softly, and brushed a stray hair away from her face. Rose tried to grab his snakelike nose. She tried to nurse so he handed her back to Hermione.

Lucius turned towards her. She was breastfeeding Rose, paging through another book hard enough to tear the pages, flipping through her notes.

"You're trying to do too much, Hermione," Lucius said. "Taking care of the baby, housework, the trial, your relationship, sleep, your mood and sanity... I can tell the trial's weighing on your conscience, stressing you out...there's only twenty-four hours in a day... focus on one thing and something else will suffer."

She looked up, wordless. "So what you're saying is..."

"Delegate," Lucius said. "You're too bright to waste your time doing housework, get childcare."

"I do not want a house elf." Hermione said flatly. "It's slave labor."

Lucius smirked, and Voldemort barked a laugh at that.

"Yes, I've heard." Lucius said. "There are witches for hire to do housework or childcare. Governesses, sitters, wet-nurses, maids, and what have you."

Hermione stared at him. "I'll let Narcissa know," Lucius offered. "Take Rose with you. You ladies can find a suitable witch. Might as well get any baby clothes, toys, or furniture you need. Treat yourself too."

"I'm fine," Hermione said stiffly.

"We have the money for one," Voldemort said. "When's the last time you left the house? Had some female company? Go yourself if you prefer, but Narcissa could be a good friend for you. You two have more in common than you think. There's a reason she never joined the Death Eaters."

Hermione stared.

There was a knock on the door and she came back with pizza and set it on the table. Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"I ordered pizza, hope that's all right. A new startup in Diagon Alley – they deliver pizza to your doorstep," she said.

Voldemort helped himself to a piece.

Lucius turned up his nose. "I've been to Italy. This is not pizza."

"The Americans took it, modified it, and the Americanized version caught on in London. Someone had the idea to deliver it," Hermione said.

"Globalization at its finest," Voldemort said dryly.

"You don't mind it?" Lucius said, and held up a piece by the corner, watching the cheese slide off the crust. "It's just melted cheese on cardboard!"

"Try possessing a snake while it's eating a live rat. All the hair, and the damn thing keeps wriggling… anything tastes good after that," Voldemort said.

Lucius blanched. "If you're possessing it, why not tell it to eat something more palatable? A steak, perhaps?"

Voldemort shook his head. "It goes against their nature. They're hunters. Might as well possess a cow and ask it to fly."

A slice flew through the air, into the living room, and landed in Rose's outstretched hand. She giggled and took a bite.

Lucius and Voldemort stared. "Not even a year old and she's controlling her magic," Lucius mused. "Summoning things with wandless magic? How long has she been doing that?"

"Just figured it out this past week," Hermione said.

"I think I was around five before I figured out how to control my magic," Voldemort mused.

"That's still on the early side," Lucius said. "I wonder what she'll be doing when she's 11 and ready for Hogwarts." Voldemort and Hermione nodded, at a loss for words.

A couple hours later, the words in the books, in the cases, scrawled on parchment started to blend together, even for Hermione. She glanced Voldemort. He had his snake-like nose in a book, _High Profile Cases of the Wizengamot. Except for the eyes and nose, the lipless mouth, he would be attractive,_ she thought. _His chiseled face, his strong cheekbones, long-fingered hands, he was a bloke who could pull off baldness – it looked good on him. And the toned wiry muscle beneath his robes… even his arse was toned…_ she steathily kicked off her slipper and stroked his foot beneath the table, maintaining a façade of innocent studiousness. He moved his foot slightly. She moved her foot back, stroking his ankle, up his calf…

"Wrong foot," Lucius hissed, glaring at her, and jerked his foot away.

Hermione felt her cheeks redden slightly. "Oops. Sorry," she muttered. She glanced at Voldemort. Perusing his stack of cases, he hadn't noticed the exchange. She silently shifted her chair closer to him, and touched his knee, stroked the outside of his thigh. Watching his face, she moved her hand to the inside, and stroked his thigh higher, closer to his manhood each time… his eyes stopped moving across the page. "I want you," she whispered in his ear, soft enough that Lucius couldn't hear. Voldemort grabbed her hand and placed it on his growing manhood. "You want me?" he whispered in her ear. "Want me to dominate you? Thrust in you so hard you can't walk straight?" She grabbed his robe-clad manhood beneath the table.

"Just bloody go upstairs, I can't bloody concentrate anymore," Lucius grunted. Voldemort grabbed her hand and led her up the stairs.

A short awhile later they returned, Hermione with a head of messy hair and walking with a faint limp. Voldemort looked less tense than before. Hermione was beaming.

"Done already?" Lucius drawled.

"We have work to do," Voldemort replied, and sat down as if nothing happened.

All too soon, the 8 hours were up, and Stevens returned to collect Voldemort.

A couple days later, Hermione, Rose, and Narcissa were shopping in Diagon Alley. On further reflection, Hermione had realized she could use a few things after all, and she had to admit she was lonely during the week. Lunchtime they were at a café, chatting about the baby or what Draco was like as a baby, the men, and so forth. It struck Hermione that Narcissa was warmer than she expected. She was ladylike and elegant, amiable and friendly, nothing like her sister Bellatrix.

Together they found a suitable parttime babysitter. It took awhile to find someone interested once they realized who Rose's father was. And someone Hermione considered suitable – able to enstill in Rose right from wrong, and so forth. At last they found someone - a witch in her forties with grown children of her own, she would take care of the housework and Rose as needed. Her eyes widened at the thought of Voldemort living in the same household, but she only nodded her head, a determined look across her face.

The Snapes invited her over for dinner when they could, but they were often busy with work, working long into the evening in the lab, or working overtime at the Ministry, in Tonks's case.

Late one night she received a letter from Ginny:

 _Hermione,_

 _Hope you're doing alright. Haven't heard from you in months. How's Rose doing? Things are all stressful around here, Harry keeps pacing. Can't be much better in your house, I bet. I want to see you but Harry wants me to wait until after the trial. He's asked the rest of us to wait as well._

 _You're a healer – We've been trying to have a child for a couple years now, the healers at St. Mungo's said I'm perfectly healthy, but I've had nothing but a couple miscarriages to show for it. Any ideas?_

 _Ginny_

There were tears on the parchment. Hermione penned a few drafts, before she finally settled on:

 _Ginny,_

 _It's good to hear from you! I'd love to see you or Harry sometime. How's the rest of your family? How's Sirius?_

 _Rose is fine, crawling everywhere, starting to talk a bit, shooting out sparks. Summons her food or toys. Keeps saying "daddy." I think she misses him too._

 _So sorry to hear about the miscarriages! Has Harry been seen by the Healers? Takes two, after all. I can't officially make a diagnosis without examining either of you, but I imagine his exposure to dark magic could be a factor. I'm including a fertility potion I developed while working in Guatemala. I brewed enough for both of you. However, it's a temporary fix, not a solution…_

 _Mione_

Another week passed, and Voldemort was back for legal counsel. Same as before, they gathered around the table, engrossed in notes, checking previous cases for precedent.

Hermione had to admit, it was a lot easier having the babysitter care for Rose during these nights – she could give Rose undivided attention, play with her, and cook dinner, leaving her to focus on the trial. No longer did she feel guilty leaving Rose alone with her toys while they worked on the case.

Voldemort claimed he was alright, but she saw him pacing, clutching his head, as the trial deadline drew close. He could present a sound argument, but if the Ministry decided he should go to Azkaban, or receive the Dementor's kiss, that was it. He thought of fleeing with his family and seeking asylum, but knew the chances of asylum were low, and of being hunted, high. The ultimate last resort was to go into hiding as muggles, but Voldemort affirmed he'd rather than die than live as a muggle. Hermione blanched at that, but said nothing.

Reading through an earmarked book, _Ministry Law and Precedent,_ and jotting down notes, Lucius absentmindedly reached for his cup of sugared-down tea, took a sip, and gagged. "Ugh. This is vile!" Placed beside Voldemort's cup on the table, somehow they got moved out of place.

Shortly after, Voldemort was paging through his volumes of charges, reached for his black coffee, and grimaced. "I can feel my teeth rotting," he muttered, and stared into his cup. "Give me that," he said, and switched cups with Lucius.

Hermione struggled to restrain a snort of laughter.

Voldemort rubbed his bald temples.

Later that evening he saw her biting her lip, staring at a closed book, quill not moving. He met her eyes and raised a hairless eyebrow.

"My stomach's tied in knots between my conscience helping you win your case, or worrying about you going to Azkaban," Hermione said suddenly. "Or a Dementor's Kiss," she said, biting her lip. "Can you swim?" He snorted.

"You underestimate my abilities, Hermione..." Voldemort mused. "I can perform a Patronus without a wand, fight any Aurors, I don't need an Animagus to break out of Azkaban..." On further reflection, she realized that he was right. Then again, she thought, his relentless pacing and obsession building his case suggested otherwise. They left for a break upstairs again, which only prompted an, "Again?" and a raised eyebrow from Lucius. Voldemort only smirked.

The hours ticked by until an Auror returned to collect Voldemort at the end.

"You realize, you stand a very real chance of being forced to testify against him?" Lucius said as he stood up to go, and turned back towards Hermione.

"I thought…." Hermione said, and her eyes widened. She looked at Voldemort. He slowly turned his intent gaze from Lucius to her. He rasied his eyebrows, as if to say, "Well?"

" _Spouses_ can't be forced to testify against each other," Lucius said. He summoned his traveling robe and left.


	6. Marriage

CHAPTER SIX – MARRIAGE

 _March 1997_

Another Order meeting wrapped up. Tonks and Snape got up and left together. When they were almost at the exit, Tonks asked him, "Your place or mine?" with a wry smile.

"Mine," he growled. She grabbed his arse and they walked out the door.

George, Ron, Harry, Sirius, and Ginny who were watching the exchange, slowly turned and looked at each other. Sirius's jaw dropped.

"They're _sleeping_ together?" Ron said. "Tonks and _Snape?_ "

"I was wondering why he seemed happier lately," Ginny said slowly. "He even smiled earlier…"

 _September 2000_

"We are gathered here for the hearing regarding Miss Nymphadora Tonks' appeal of the Ministry's rejection of her marriage license to marry Severus Snape," said Judge Emmitt Vance, a balding wizard with glasses. His scribe, Percy Weasley was taking notes. Tonks was at the stand. "Miss Tonks, your license was rejected on the basis of conflict of interest between your career as an Auror and Snape's history as a Death Eater. You even served on Death Eater Detail, Miss Tonks. I'm sorry, your appeal is denied."

"Your honor, I stepped down from Death Eater Detail. I am in the Training department now. Severus is risking his life serving as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix," Tonks argued.

"Nonetheless, he took the Mark," said the Judge. He leaned over the podium and peered at Tonks. "Just what exactly is the nature of your relationship with Severus?"

"We're engaged. He's my fiancé," she said defensively.

"I mean the history of it," he clarified.

She took a deep breath. "I first met him when I was an eleven-year-old girl attending Hogwarts. He was my Potions professor, it was his first year teaching. Definitely the youngest, by far – he looked like he was twenty, tops. The first few classes he seemed to try to be a normal teacher, but aside from the Slytherins who supported him, many of the students gave him a hard time and didn't take him seriously. So he quickly became the um, stricter Professor Snape we all know and love. He seemed to keep to himself, quiet and withdrawn, almost sad – like he had lost someone. Or even regret, like he blamed himself for something. Never had to check his notes though, the entire time I was his student. Even saw McGonagall check her notes once, but not him. Anyway, time went on. Puberty happened."

"Puberty, Miss Tonks?" the Judge said, flabbergasted.

"Mine of course, he was obviously an adult and had went through it. Anyway, right around my fifth or sixth year I started noticing his deep voice. I'd act up in class just to hear his voice, I didn't care what he was saying. Especially this one day he caught a cold and hadn't had a chance to brew the Pepper-Up potion yet; he sounded huskier than usual that day. I kept asking questions just to get him to talk."

"Alright, alright, his voice was dreamy. Anything else?"

"His eyes. His dark eyes were captivating. His height. His hands. His smell."

"I meant – his smell, Miss Tonks?"

"Y'know, that natural scent when you get close to someone? If you really acted up and made him mad, he'd get in your personal space to try and intimidate you. Percy, I'm sure you remember."

"I was a straight-laced student. Saw him do it to my brothers, though," Percy said stiffly.

Tonks nodded. "Safe to say I had a bit of a crush on him. Everyone else called him 'greasy git' though, so I kept my fat mouth shut. Didn't tell anyone. Time went on. I graduated Hogwarts, completed my Auror training, started work. Saw him once with a couple known former Death Eaters at a bar in Knockturn Alley. Saw his Dark Mark, and my heart sank. He was a Death Eater. I joined the Order after Voldemort came back, and saw Severus at the meetings. So he was an Order member too. A spy for Dumbledore. Over time I started to care for him, like him, but I didn't think he'd ever like me back. He always seemed annoyed by my presence. I risked rejection and my job if I ever did anything." She took a sip of water from her glass on the stand.

"What changed?" the Judge asked.

"I heard the prophecy regarding Voldemort and Hermione being soulmates. And I thought, well, if they can make it work, why not me and Severus? I could at least try to seduce him, make a move and see what happens."

"Did it work?" he asked.

"At the risk of sounding like my significant other," Tonks said, and changing her voice to Snape's baritone, added, " _Obviously."_ The Judge looked around wildly as if looking for Snape.

"She's a Metamorphmagus," Percy explained impatiently. "She can do voices, faces, just about anyone she's ever met. Don't get her started."

"Very well," the Judge said. "However the Ministry's decision still stands. Unless you submit a petition to reverse the measure, and we're talking a thousand-signatures strong, the Ministry's decision is upheld. You're dismissed. I'm sorry, Miss Tonks." Deflated, Tonks stepped down from the stand.

"You think Tom and I should get married," Hermione stated. She had freshly showered and was wrestling a comb through her hair. Lucius had arrived early for their weekly planning session. The babysitter, Marianne, was preparing dinner and feeding Rose in a high chair, and kept staring nervously at the clock.

"I just don't know why you don't," he stated. "You're living together. You have a child together. A house. You're sleeping together. You've had each other's back at every turn since you ended up together. Protected each other. Saved each other. Sacrificed parts of your former lives to be together. He faces a very real chance of receiving the Dementor's Kiss, or going to Azkaban for life. I think you'll regret it if you don't."

Hermione looked thoughtful. Lucius paused, and dumped sugar into his tea. "He is not the romantic type. In the slim chance he does get off somehow, don't expect flowers. Or poetry, or candy, declarations of love, Valentine's Day cards, and so forth. He may not say it, but he does love you. He gave up everything he worked for, for you. You should've seen the look on his face when his spell hit you. When he came to visit you when you were in a coma."

"It's everything he's done that makes me hesitant," Hermione said, gesturing at the stack of charges.

He leaned forward. "I've been married for decades. Trust me when I say you have two options. You could either decide you don't want to know, decide ignorance is bliss, and so forth. But you'll always have distance between you. Or, option two, you can ask him for his point of view, ask him why he's done what he's done. And yes, you'll be upset, you two will fight, but in the end you'll finally understand him, and it'll bring you two closer. Maybe over time you'll even forgive him." He paused, took a sip of his tea, frowned, and dumped more sugar into it.

His steely gray eyes met hers for a moment, before he looked down into his tea. "There's things I've done over the years that I regret. Things I wish I could take back. Things I'm not proud of. Things Narcissa isn't happy about. There's certain things I was forced to do, but there's other things I was invited to do, or pressured to do, but didn't partake – either due to my conscience or out of respect to Narcissa. At the end of the day, she forgives, accepts, and loves me unconditionally, and I love her all the more for that. I can't speak for him, he's not one to talk of his emotions, but I imagine he has his regrets as well," Lucius said, his steely gray eyes meeting hers. Hermione stared at him, a long moment. " _Regrets, things I wish I could take back"…? Interesting. I wonder how many other Death Eaters have regrets. I wonder if he regrets being a Death Eater._ He turned to his notes from last week, and Hermione went back to fighting a comb through her hair.

"You ever try a spell on that hair of yours?" Lucius said. Without waiting for an answer, he waved his wand and said _"Crus capillus,"_ and her bushy hair fell into a cascade of shiny curls. Hermione conjured a mirror and tried the comb again. It passed through her hair effortlessly. "That'll last until your next shower. There's also _Recta_ _capillus_ to straighten it."

"How do you know hairdressing charms?" Hermione demanded.

"You don't have a mother, three sisters, a wife, and two sisters-in-law and not pick up a few things," Lucius said.

"So the truth comes out, how the Malfoys always had such perfect hair," Hermione teased.

"Now you know the secret, don't tell anyone," Lucius said with a wink.

Just then, the door banged open and Marianne jumped. Stevens and another Auror strode in, holding Voldemort's chained wrists. They thrust him inside, vanished the chains, and left to stand guard outside. He gave Rose a kiss on the forehead, and took his place at the table between Hermione and Lucius.

"You look nice," he murmured to Hermione, picking up a shiny curl of hair between his spidery fingers and letting it fall.

They turned to work. Throughout the evening, Hermione kept coming back to the idea. _Maybe we should be married. He hasn't said a word though, one way or the other. I could plan a proposal. But isn't that the bloke's job anyway? He can't exactly plan anything or go ring shopping in Azkaban. If he really wanted to he could work something out with Lucius. Maybe it was his idea of a proposal earlier, his comment back when Ron had proposed. "Maybe we should get married. There seems to be a mistaken assumption that you're available." Maybe he thinks I turned him down. What am I doing, this is Voldemort we're talking about!_

Several times she considered broaching the topic, but the words died in her mouth. _Have you ever considered getting married? Do you think we should get married?_ And yet, all too soon, the planning session was over. Voldemort didn't say a word, one way or another. The trial was in eight days. Eight days. The day after their next planning session. He had assured her he was fine, but his relentless pacing around the house suggested otherwise.

That night, she laid awake, thinking. _The look in his eyes when Rose was born… He ended the war for me. Agreed to leave Harry alone for me. And yet, it's Lord bloody Voldemort, he started the bloody war in the first place, this is crazy. Madness. And yet, our adventures searching the Mayan pyramids for old magic, visiting the priestess, discussing anything, and everything. We had even talked about traveling to discover more forgotten magic, old magic - earth magic._ _I never met someone like him, seeking knowledge the way I do, the way his face lights up when he discovers something, same as mine. How he seeks out knowledge of the muggle world even; how a car works, physics, and so forth. Listening, really listening; I can talk to him about anything. Our feverish nights of passion – no one ever made me orgasm like that before! He saved my life when Bella attacked me, woke me up from the coma. Gave me Rose._ She kept hearing Lucius's words in her head: "I think you'll regret it if you don't." _Bloody hell, it's almost daylight and I still can't sleep. I miss him. I love him… in spite of everything, I love him._

Her mind made up, the next day she went shopping with Narcissa in Diagon Alley. They searched for a robe until she found one, white and sensual, it hugged her curves and looked elegant. At Narcissa's insistence, they also stopped to pick up wedding night lingerie – white and lacy, delicate and revealing. _How could such a small scrap of lace cost so much?! Even if it's handmade in Italy, it's so tiny!_ At last, they stopped by a jeweler for two matching rings, simple bands polished to a reflective surface. _And to think in an alternate universe Ginny would be the one going bridal shopping with me, not Draco's mum! Although, she did know all the best stores and her advice on what would look most flattering and so forth was helpful._

"Narcissa, how do you stay married to Lucius, knowing of his Death Eater activities?" Hermione asked. It had been burning in her mind all day.

She paused her perusal of a silk evening robe and sniffed. "Because I love him anyway. When he first joined, we never thought it would turn out the way it did. It seemed more like a political rally, or a protest. By the time it turned as violent as it did, it was too late. You can't back out of the Death Eaters. I don't think he would've joined if he knew."

The next planning session, the night before the trial, Hermione filled Lucius and Marianne the babysitter in on her plans before Voldemort arrived. She had set up the table as usual for the three of them. The Aurors arrived with Voldemort right at 3 pm. They worked studiously until around 7, when Hermione went upstairs to get ready. She came back down a half hour later, dressed in the elegant white robe, her hair pulled back into an updo with a cascade of curls, makeup done, rings hidden in a side pocket. Voldemort turned towards her, an inquisitive expression across his pale face.

"It's our last night before the trial," Hermione explained. "I know you can't leave the house, but I wanted to have a date of sorts. Take a break." He gave her a grateful smile, leaned back, and stretched. Marianne went upstairs to the nursery with Rose to get her ready for bed. Lucius merely nodded, and continued working at the kitchen table. Hermione lit the candles in the dining room, set out the food she had prepared earlier (and kept warm with a stasis charm), and cast a few charms for privacy – Lucius, Rose, and Marianne wouldn't see or hear them, and neither would they see or hear Rose fussing, Marianne washing dishes, or Lucius paging through files and writing notes. _Not ideal, but I suppose we have no choice, with him on house arrest._

The Aurors were stationed outside blocking anyone from entering (or leaving) and the Floo was blocked. Anti-Apparation charms were cast. However, just before they showed up, Hermione had sneaked the Snapes into the house – for Tonks to officiate the ceremony, and Severus to serve as a witness. Both of them had showed up with work to do while they waited – inventory sheets and bills for Severus, and a stack of cases to go through for Tonks. Together, they waited with Narcissa in a spare bedroom, enchanted to appear like a clearing in a forest for the wedding ceremony (Although for the time being, the Snapes had conjured a table and chairs to work on). For their trouble, Hermione had promised and prepared the same food for the rest of them as well – Severus, Tonks, Narcissa, Lucius, and Marianne.

The dining table was set with the fine china, a fine Elvin wine and some of Voldemort's favorites; raw oysters to start, Caesar salad, a rare rack of lamb, roasted potatoes, and French-cut almondine green beans, followed by a chocolate torte with raspberries for dessert.

"I thought we could eat in here tonight," Hermione said, and led him in. He looked pleasantly surprised, and sat down in his chair at the head of the table. They didn't talk much during dinner – she could tell his mind was elsewhere, on the trial the next day, on the sentencing. He had been pacing again during their planning session. She herself was nervous; not just on the trial, but on what she was about to do. _You're about to propose to and marry a wizard so feared, people feared to speak his name, and right under the Ministry's nose. Don't mess it up._ Once they finished dessert, she got down on one knee before him and presented the rings. "Will you marry me?" she whispered. A moment passed.

"Are you doing this because of the trial?" he asked. "I'm flattered, but I don't want you marrying me because of that."

"Whatever happens, I want to be your wife. I love you," she said.

"It's too late," he said hollowly. "Even if I wasn't on house arrest or in Azkaban, the courts are closed. The trial starts at 9 am tomorrow morning."

"I happen to know an Auror who agreed to officiate, and her husband agreed to serve as witness, as did the Malfoys. They're waiting upstairs." His jaw dropped. "Will you marry me?" she repeated.

He nodded and his red eyes glittered. "Yes, I will." She led him by the hand upstairs. "I'm changing first," he said, leading her to the master bedroom. "I'm not getting married in an Azkaban robe," he said flatly. He pulled a silk black robe with silver embroidery out of the closet. _My finest robe, from the Death Eater initiation rites and banquets..._ He gestured, and she waved her wand, switching his Azkaban robe to the robe he selected. He searched in the back of the closet, and pulled out a dusty box hidden under some socks. He turned around and grasped her hand in one hand, opening the box with the other. She gasped. Inside was a ring with a trio of sparkling diamonds, the center one easily over a carat. "I meant to give this to you earlier, but the timing was never right," he murmured.

She touched it gently with a finger. "It's beautiful," she said breathlessly, admiring the sparkles of light shining within. "When did you…?"

"Just before I went hunting," he said, and slid it on her finger. She smiled and led him to the spare bedroom. His eyes widened as he took in the scene – the once empty room serving as storage was now larger than before, and a beautiful sunlit clearing in a forest. White flower petals lined a pathway to an altar with flowering vines. Candles floated in the air and soft music and birdsong played throughout. A bouquet of white flowers lay waiting for her on an endtable near the door. Tonks was standing by the altar in full ceremonial Auror regalia, standing behind a podium decorated with white flowers. Severus, Narcissa, and Lucius were sitting in chairs on either side of the path, but stood and turned when the couple entered. Together, Hermione and Voldemort walked down the aisle.

"Please be seated," Tonks said. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Hermione Jean Granger and Tom Marvolo Riddle. Marriage gives a permanence to a couple's relationship, a sense of being there for each other, no matter what happens. Supporting each other in good times and bad. Having the capacity to forgive and forget. It is standing together and facing the world. The road that brought Hermione and Tom here hasn't been easy. It's been filled with challenges they weren't necessarily prepared for. But together they've taken each one on and used those experiences to strengthen their love. The bride and groom will now exchange rings to symbolize their commitment. The wearing of the rings is a visible sign and reminder of the commitment they have made to each other." She gestured, and Hermione pulled out the ring box and handed it to Tonks to hold. Hermione took Tom's left hand and placed his ring on his finger. It magically stretched to fit, and glowed briefly. He took her ring and taking her left hand, slid it on her finger, watching as it shrunk to fit and glowed for a moment.

Tonks waved her wand, muttering old Latin, and ropes of magic wrapped around them. Hermione reached for and held his hands. She felt her magical aura expanding as if reaching out for his magic. She felt his darker magic enveloping her golden magic, surrounding it, melding together until she couldn't tell one from the other. "Your magic is combined as one. Ready to access should the other need it, stronger together than apart."

"Hermione, do you take Tom to be your husband, to live together in the covenant of marriage? Do you vow to love Tom as he loves you? Through all hardship, darkness, and pain, to reach for joy and hope? Do you vow to love him, comfort him, and honor him in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," she said.

"Tom, do you take Hermione to be your wife, to live together in the covenant of marriage? Do you vow to love Hermione as she loves you? Through all hardship, darkness, and pain, to reach for joy and hope? Do you vow to love her, comfort her, and honor her in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," he said.

"By the power vested in me I now pronounce you husband and wife. Tom, you may now kiss your bride."

He bent down and kissed her, his lipless mouth pressed against her soft lips, his tongue pressing against her lips until she granted him access, caressing her tongue with his. She rested a hand on his cheek.

"May I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Tom Marvolo Riddle!" Tonks said. She pulled out a marriage license. "If you would just sign here, and here," she gestured, and presented a quill. Tom signed it, as did Hermione. Tonks signed the line for the officiant, and dated it. Severus signed the line for witness.

"This is from us," Lucius said, and presented a bottle of fine champagne. He conjured six glasses, floating in the air, and poured the champagne.

"To the Riddles!" Narcissa said, and they toasted to the bridge and groom.

"I knew about the bands, but I didn't know about that ring," Narcissa said, gesturing at Hermione's engagement ring. She looked up curiously at Voldemort. "You have nice taste," she said. He smirked.

"Thanks for the food by the way," Tonks said. Severus and the Malfoys murmured their agreement. "So, how does this compare to how you envisioned your wedding? Every girl dreams of her wedding at one point."

"A little different," Hermione acknowledged. "I have to admit back when I was fourteen or so and thought of my future, I pictured the Weasleys in attendance, my parents, and at one point I even wondered if I'd end up marrying Harry – if only because between my two best friends at the time, I felt closer to him," she said, choosing her words carefully.

Severus snorted. "So slightly different, then."

"A trifle," Narcissa said lightly.

"Can't wait to see Potter's face tomorrow when he sees you two are married," Severus said dryly. Voldemort snorted and nodded in agreement.

He fingered his ring. "Is that…?" he asked.

"It's platinum," Hermione said. "I thought you wouldn't appreciate white gold. I thought about silver, but as platinum's more valuable… no offense."

He waved it off. "Your engagement ring is platinum too."

Tonks checked her watch. "It's 9:33 pm. You have until 11 pm to consummate the marriage and make it official before the Aurors arrive to collect him for Azkaban. And I would suggest the three of you appear to be working as if nothing happened when the Aurors arrive. Not to rush you, but… go have sex!" she said, with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yes ma'am," Voldemort said, and swept Hermione off her feet, carrying her into the master bedroom. He deposited her on the bed and vanished her robe, revealing the delicate white lace underthings. He captured her mouth with his, his tongue probing for access once more, searching the inside of her mouth, entwined with her tongue. She moaned into his mouth and grasped his cheek. He kissed down her neck, down her cleavage, unhooked the front clasp on her lacy white bra, and cupped her breasts. He kneaded her breasts, took a nipple in his mouth, and sucked. She moaned and he kneaded the other breast as he licked the other, thrusting it in his mouth, licking her cleavage. She gasped and vanished his robe revealing his pale manhood, erect and ready. He kissed a trail down her belly button, down to her mound, and stroked her through the lacy fabric, teasing her, before continuing down her legs. He returned once more to her center, stroking her through the lace, parting it with his spider-like fingers, stroked her, teasing her, before thrusting a few fingers inside her, licking her nub. She arched her back, aching with need, right on the precipice. She grabbed his aching manhood and thrust it in her mouth, fondled his balls, sucked his head, and licked his shaft, feeling how hard it was beneath her fingers, like bone covered in velvet. He grabbed her hair, she grabbed his arse, he vanished her knickers and thrust deep inside her, stretching her walls, filling her to the hilt. She gasped.

He grabbed her legs and thrust harder, deep inside, pressing urgently against her cervix. She rubbed her nub, aching for release. She flipped him over on his back and crawled on top, sinking down on his shaft, bouncing up and sinking down again. He grabbed her arse tight as she rubbed her nub, faster and faster, aching for release, right on the precipice. He slapped her arse and thrust deep into her, sending her over the edge. She moaned and closed her eyes as she felt waves of passion envelop her body. Beneath her, Voldemort came with a grunt, pulsating deep inside her. _Just how we finished the first time._

They lay in bed, post-coitus, breathless and sweaty. He watched as the marriage license sealed itself and vanished with a pop. _Mr. and Mrs. Riddle. We're married now…it's official._

They lay in bed for awhile, her head on his chest, until he realized it was 10:30 already. _Half an hour left._ He dressed in his Azkaban robes, she in the robe she was wearing when the Aurors dropped off Voldemort that afternoon. Together, they retired to the kitchen table and joined Lucius, as if nothing had happened. She hid her left hand beneath the table, and Voldemort hid his ring in his mouth when the Aurors arrived. _Best to keep it secret for now._ At 11 pm sharp, Aurors arrived to collect Voldemort, and shackled him once more.


End file.
